Making Fun a Priority
by Bamby0304
Summary: Life at the Sanctuary was good for Brandi. She enjoyed her job and the people she worked with. She was honestly content- more than she'd been before the world ended. So when she catches the eye of her fearless leader, she finds her easy going life turned upside down... Will it all be fun and games? Or has she bitten off more than she can chew?
1. Chapter 1: Negan's Birthday

**For Ash's 2k Writing Challenge. My prompt was _Negan's birthday_. Never really done anything like this before (talking about prompts and Negan fics, I've written smut before), so be nice, 'kay? :):)**

 ** _Summary_ : As much as she thought today would be like any other day, Brandi was wrong. Completely wrong. Today her job was taking her places she'd never been before. Today she was going to find herself face to face with the one and only, Negan. Today was Negan's birthday. Today he was in a giving mood.**

 **Warnings: Smut and language.**

 **Bamby**

Life was good. Considering the world was falling apart and people were dying but not staying dead, life was good. It had been about two, maybe three years since the dead began to walk and the living began to run. Two years since I'd found myself happier than ever before.

I hadn't had the best life before. Abuse, depression. Violence, anxiety. I'd worked as a waitress for a sleazy, greasy boss. I'd lived with my alcoholic mother and her pervy boyfriend. I was a student at college, where I had no friends and was a constant target for bullying. To say the end of the world was a blessing for me, would be an understatement. I thrived in this world. I'd finally found my place. I belonged somewhere. I was… Happy.

Pulling myself out of bed, I moved over to my dresser and grabbed my brush before running it through my hair as I looked at myself in the mirror before me.

There was nothing special about me. I was simple. Plain Jane. Thick, wavy, strawberry blonde hair. Thin pink lips. Large hazel eyes framed by round glasses. Fair skin littered with freckles. A small, pointed nose. I was thin, too- so much so, you could see some of my bones. But seeing as I was a hard worker and didn't eat much- a problem caused by my past- that was to be expected. Yet despite my frail body, I was strong, and had some curves- nothing too fancy though.

None of that mattered to me. I liked myself, which was important. I didn't _love_ myself, but I was working on it. That's all I cared about. How I saw myself was more important than how others saw me. Well, actually… I cared about what Negan thought of me.

Negan. He's the boss around here. Keeps the place running. Makes the rules. Protects everyone. He leads us through the chaos of the world today, while trying to keep some order from the world before. He was smart, and brave, and strong. Cruel, yet kind. Gentle, yet tough. He was the most complex person I'd ever met and I was in love with him.

I was hopelessly and completely in love with the man, and he didn't even know my name…

Shaking my head- now finished brushing my hair- I put my brush down on the dresser before pulling my hair into a quick bun. Grabbing some clothes from my drawers, I got dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a grey top. Moving over to my bed again, I sat and pulled on my tattered pair of dirty white sneakers.

Now ready for the day ahead, I started for my door, ready to get to work.

…

I worked in the laundromat with a few old ladies, Margaret, Rosie and Eunice. They always seemed to make me laugh. Whenever a cute guy would come into the laundromat, once he was gone the ladies would talk about how good looking he was and how they wished they were twenty years younger so they could have a piece of him.

They loved having me around as much as I loved having them around. They told me stories of their pasts, and I helped them with tasks they couldn't do. They worried about my weight and how I was single. I worried about the health and how they were working. We were like one, big, happy family.

Margaret- or Mags for short- was the fun one. During our lunch breaks the two of us would sit together and watch other people working away. We'd make up stories about the people. Other times we'd pull pranks on Eunice and Rosie.

Rosie was the kooky one of the bunch. She could never seem to stay focused. She was always talking about random things that just didn't make sense. But she was sweet and caring, and the most understanding person I knew.

Eunice was a grump. She scared all the little kids at the Sanctuary, and she wasn't afraid to scold anyone for breaking a rule or misbehaving. Even I was a little scared of her sometimes. But she was also very wise and gave the best advice.

Today I was busy washing a pile of clothes I'd seen time and time before. Negan's.

"You know, Brandi…" Mags nudged my arm with her elbow, a giant grin on her face. "Its the boss man's birthday today."

"Oh, yes." Rosie smiled. "Oh, I do love birthdays. Cake and balloons. Will we get to play with the balloons, Eunice?" she asked, a dreamy look in her eyes.

Eunice shook her head with a sigh. "No, Rose. Just keep working, okay?"

The four of us stood around a large table, each of us washing a basket of clothes each in the bucket set before us. It was hard, washing everything by hand, but we weren't allowed to use the machines unless specifically told to.

When it came to Negan's clothes and things we could, but I preferred to do it by hand… _That sounds a little creepy._ I didn't mean it like that. No, I just liked to know it was actually clean. Using my hands and feeling the material… _Okay I'm gonna stop there._

"I heard it was his birthday." I noted. "But that doesn't mean anything to us. We're still stuck in here washing clothes. Its not like today is going to be any different than every other day."

"Or, maybe it will be." Mags shrugged. "Maybe you just have to make it different."

I frowned at her, confused. "What are you going on about? I thought Rosie was the confusing one, not you."

Mags just laughed, shaking her head as she got back to work. It was Eunice who spoke next. "What Mags is trying to say, is that if you want something to happen then sometimes you're the one who has to make it happen." Eunice explained as she scrubbed a pair of jeans in the bucket of soapy water. "We all know how you feel about _him_. The only way you're going to get over this little crush, is if you take the next step."

"Exactly!" Rosie beamed.

Nodding at Rosie, Mags moved away from her bucket. "Which is why…" She stepped around the table and grabbed a basket. "You're going to take these sheets to his room and make his bed."

"But that's your job." I reminded her.

I only washed Negan's things. I never took them to his room. I hardly left the laundromat during work hours.

"Not today." Mags shook her head, thrusting the basket into my chest. "My backs been playing up again. I don't think bending over a bed and pulling at the sheets will do me any good. You're young. You do it."

There was no room for discussion or argument. There was nothing I could do or say. My fate had been sealed by the three women before me. I suddenly felt like Princess Aurora with the three fairy godmothers that try too hard and mess stuff up.

Sighing, I gripped on to the basket and looked to each of the women. "I hope you feel bad when I mess up and get in trouble. Or when nothing happens and my feelings get hurt." I glared playfully at them before turning on my heels and starting for the door.

…

I'd never been in Negan's room before. Heck, I'd never been in this part of the Sanctuary before. It was eerie, walking down the halls as I tried to find my way to his bedroom. My palms were sweaty from nerves, and my heart was beating so hard I thought it would break my ribs. I hadn't been this scared or nervous in years.

Ever since the world had fallen apart, I'd been pretty much fine. No worries or fears. I knew how to survive on little food, and I was good at staying hidden from the dead. So none of that worried me. People worried me. They made me feel small and insecure. Despite the feelings I had for Negan, I still couldn't help but feel like an ant compared to him. A tiny, insignificant ant…

Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts and continued down the a hall. I'd bumped into a man earlier, who'd been kind enough to give me directions to Negan's room. Now I stood in front of the door he'd described, hoping and praying that no one was inside so I could just do my job and leave without any hassles.

Shifting my hold on the basket, I reached to grab the door handle, turning it before I pushed the door open. No one was inside. _Thank goodness._

Moving hastily, I hurried over to the bed and placed the basket on the floor by my feet before I pulled out the black sheets and got to work. Kneeling on the mattress, I slipped a corner of the sheet around the heavy mattress and pulled so I could get to the next corner. Once I was done, I grabbed the next sheet and flung it into the air so it would fall on to the bed.

Letting go of the sheet once it was done, I began to move about. Pulling, tucking and straightening the sheet so it was perfect. Running my hands over the material to neaten it, I found my mind wondering. What it would feel like to be pressed between the bed and Negan's body? _The saying goes, 'Stuck between a hard place and a rock'. I'd rather be stuck between Negan and his bed._ My mind whispered as a shiver ran over my body and a small smile crept on to my lips.

"You enjoying yourself, doll?"

I jumped back with a squeak.

Having forgotten about the basket on the ground, I placed my foot down wrong and tripped on the object, falling me to the ground with a thump.

Chuckling, Negan stepped further into the room, and stood behind me. I tilted my head back so I could look at him, swallowing hard at the sight of his grin. His eyes searched me as mine stayed glued to his lips, too scared to do or say anything.

He was like no one else. I'd never met a man that made me want to kneel before him. It wasn't just his dark hair, salt and pepper scruff, dark eyes, or the fact he was always wearing jeans, T-shirts and his leather jacket.

No. There was an air about him, too. His confidence. The fact he knew he was handsome and could have practically anyone he wanted, but wasn't completely up himself. Yet he was up himself, and that seemed to pull me in more. If someone can love themselves as much as he did… I just didn't understand it, and I loved it all at the same time.

Shaking his head in amusement, he moved to stand by my side and offered me his hand. But when I just looked at it, still frozen, he sighed. "Doll, don't make me feel like an asshole. I didn't mean to scare the shit out of you like that, but I did. So let me at least help you up."

Nodding slowly, I reached for his outstretched hand, letting his leather clad fingers grasp on to my tiny hand. With an easy tug, he pulled me from the ground and back to my feet.

Standing once more, I quickly let go of his hand and stepped back- making sure not to trip again. "Sorry… I wanted to finish before you got back. I know you're always busy. I didn't want to get in your way." my voice was so low and quiet. My hands were fiddling with each other. It was obvious that I was nervous.

What happened next surprised me.

Negan reached forward, lifting my chin so I would look up at him as he gave me half a smile, and half a grin. "You don't have to apologize, doll. I wouldn't fucking mind you getting in my way more often."

If we'd been living in a cartoon, I would have melted on the spot right then and there. His melted chocolate voice, dark eyes, seductive grin, gentle and yet rough touch. _If I died now, I'd die happy._

Letting me go, he gestured to the bed. "Please. Continue." was all he said before he moved towards the leather couch on the other side of the room and took a seat.

Taking a deep breath as I tried my best not to look over at him, I went back to making his bed.

Grabbing the comforter out of the basket, I placed it on the bed and started to pull it in to place. Leaning forward, I tugged and brushed the material, trying to get all the creases and bumps out.

"You know… It's my birthday today." Negan's voice spoke up.

I nodded, not turning to look at him. "I know."

We fell back into silence again, but this time I couldn't help myself. Every now and then I would look over at him through the corner of my eye. Seeing him siting there, leaning back against the couch, his arm draped over the back of it, a curious and mischievous look in his eyes.

 _Oh, God. I want him bad._ My mind groaned.

Suddenly he moved. Leaning forward as he placed his elbows on his knees and clasped his hand together in front of him, he spoke. "Why don't I know you?"

Shrugging, I kept working as I answered. "I spend my days either in the laundromat or in my room. Can't get in trouble that way."

He chuckled. "Fair enough. But you can't have fun either. Sounds pretty fucking boring if you ask me."

It had always amused me, hearing how often he cursed. I myself preferred not to say such words. But I didn't mind other's doing it, and in all my life I'd never met someone who swore as much as Negan.

"Having fun isn't a priority." I noted.

His grin grew. "Its the end of the fucking world. If we're gonna go out, might as well be with a fucking bang."

Shaking my head as I smiled, I moved around the bed to grab the pillows. "Fun is over rated, time consuming and something best left in the past. All I need is a good book and a comfortable bed."

"Come on. Don't you wish you could just let loose for one day? Let your hair down and do whatever the fuck you want? Hell, that's what I'm doing today. No work. Just fun."

I gave him a knowing look. "I thought you had fun everyday."

"Yeah, but I work, too." he pointed out before going on. "Not today though. Nope. It's my birthday. I'm gonna do whatever I fucking want."

I stopped working for a moment as I turned to him. "Its just another day."

He frowned. "What?"

"Your birthday. It's just another day." I shrugged. "I never understood why people felt the need to make birthdays such a big deal. Cakes and balloons and parties. Family, friends and presents. None of it made sense to me. Neither did Christmas, or Easter, or Thanksgiving. None of that crap ever made sense to me."

His frown grew as he watched me carefully. "Never had a birthday party when you were growing up, did you?"

Shaking my head, I got back to placing the pillows on the bed. "No. All I got was the gift of cleaning up after my hungover mother and avoiding her pervy boyfriend's grabby hands. My birthday, was just like any other day."

I had no idea why I was being so honest with him. I hadn't told a soul about my past. No teacher, or guidance counselor. No coworker or therapist. All my memories were trapped in my mind, having never been spoken aloud.

Before I realized he'd moved, Negan was suddenly standing behind me, his hand on my shoulder as he turned me around to face him. His eyes were sorry and concerned as he looked down at me.

"Shit life you had, huh?"

"Yes." I answered simply.

He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly as he lifted his hand to cup my cheek. "If you could do anything, _anything_ , what would you do? If it was your birthday and I allowed you to do whatever you wanted, what would you do?"

 _Now that's a question… What would I do?_

Without thinking my actions through, I reached for his jacket and pulled him down to me. Our lips pressed together in a surprised and awkward kiss at first. But the moment Negan understood, he took control and everything seemed to fall into place.

Kissing Negan was nothing like I thought it would be. There was heat, sure. But it wasn't rough and wild like I'd expected. In fact, he was actually gentle. His lips which were surprisingly soft, pressed against mine softly, like he was savouring the moment. His hand that still held my cheek didn't keep me in place. No, it was the fact he was still cupping my face that had me unmoving. Even the brush of his facial hair against my skin wasn't what I'd been expecting.

Yet I still felt as if I was drowning as all my senses took him in.

The feel of his skin against my skin, his lips against my lips, his breath brushing against me. Every nerve inside me vibrated as he awoke sensations I never thought I could feel. Heat began to pool and collect in my stomach before it lowered to rest between my legs.

Hearing the thrum of my pulse in my ear as soft moans and groans came from both of us, was the most magical thing I'd ever heard. A symphony I could get lost in for the rest of my life. Music that could be perfected by the sound of our bodies meeting each other.

I could smell the leather on his jacket, with a faint whiff of dirt and scotch. But there was also a smell I could only describe as Negan. Dangerous and sexy. Intoxicating and daring. Everything he was I could smell, and it was pulling me in, further and further.

He tasted like nothing I'd had before. There was a hint of the alcohol I'd smelt, but everything else was a mystery to me. That didn't matter though. All that mattered was now that I'd had a taste, I would always want more.

Opening my eyes as he pulled away, I couldn't help myself as I licked my lips. Seeing him staring at me with eyes so dark they were almost black, and lips reddened and plump… It did nothing to control the hunger screaming inside me.

"If you don't want to go any further, I suggest you say something now, before it's too fucking late." he told me, his eyes looking down at my lips as he waited for an answer.

 _Or maybe he was waiting for a chance to kiss me again?_

Swallowing hard, I adjusted my grip on his jacket that I still hold as I shifted on the spot nervously. "Anything I want, right?"

That's all I had to say before his lips descended back on to mine.

He was no longer soft and gentle. He knew what I wanted and what he wanted, and he was going to take it.

Moving his hands, he grasped my waist and began to back us up until I was pressed against the bed post. Using his tongue, he opened my mouth before claiming it as his finger unbuttoned my pants, and his hand found its way to my core.

Tearing my lips from his I moaned as his fingers brushed against my folds.

"Fuck." he lowered his face to nuzzle my neck. "Lets make this the best fucking birthday, _ever_." he groaned as he pushed two fingers into me.

My head fell back as my hips thrust against his hand. Everything I'd been feeling before intensified as he pumped his finger in and out of me in an uneven rhythm that would surely drive me mad. One moment he would be hard and fast, pressing in as deep as he could go. Then he'd stop and slow down and feel all of me as if to find each spot that got a reaction out of me.

His lips pressed on to my neck where he began to suck and nibble on my skin. I had no doubt in my mind that he would leave a mark. I also had a feeling he was doing it on purpose. Marking me as if to say I was now his.

If that's what he wanted, then that's what he'd get. Before I would have knelt before this man without hesitation. Now, I'd probably unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants while I was down there. _Give what you get, right?_

With each stroke of his fingers I felt my insides tighten more and more. I felt the heat he caused burn inside me. My head was nothing but a cloudy mess of desire and need. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I was sure he could feel it too. I found myself gripping on to his shoulders and my leg sliding up to wrap around him, as my hips thrust into his hand. Sounds escaped my lips. Sounds I'd never made before.

I'd been touched before. I wasn't a virgin. But never had I ever felt like this. No one, and I mean no one, had made me feel like this before. It was completely foreign and completely intoxicating.

"Negan." his name fell from my lips as I felt everything inside me begin to curl into a ball that needed to be released. "Negan, please." I was practically begging.

Picking up the pace, Negan's lips latched on to my neck as he pressed against my most sensitive place and continued to pump his fingers, quickly drawing me to my first ever climax.

Screaming out his name, I had no control as my hips thrashed against him wildly and my fingers dug into his jacket. Fire burned through my body, setting everything alight, causing a bright fire to grow inside me. My nerves buzzed in ecstasy. My mind hummed in contentment.

For the first time in my life, I was both at peace and wide awake.

Still stroking me softly, Negan's lips brushed the skin just under my ear. I could feel him grin as he spoke. "You still think fun is over rated and birthdays are just like every other day?"

I felt myself smile as I leaned against him, running my hands over his chest. "Definitely not."

"Good." he pressed a quick kiss on my shoulder before he pulled back. Grinning down at me, he kept his hand in my pants as he asked his next question. "You ready for more?"

I was about to nod, because I may still be coming down from my high but that did not mean I wasn't ready for whatever else he had install for me. I was more than ready. I was desperate. I'd had a taste and I would forever be addicted to him.

But before I could say a single word, there was a knock on the door.

Groaning, Negan pulled his hand from my pants and adjusted himself before he called out. "What?!"

After a moment or two, the door slowly opened as one of his men poked their head in to the room and turned their attention to our leader. "Boss, we've got a situation. I know its your birthday and everything, but it's an emergency."

"Jesus, fucking Christ." Negan shook his head. "All I ask is for one fucking day. But you fuckers can't even manage that. Fuck me!" stepping away from me, he gestured to the door. "Get the fuck out and give me two fucking seconds. I need to calm the fuck down before I rip you and every other useless fuck to pieces."

Not needing to be told twice, the guy left in a hurry, closing the door behind him.

The moment he was gone, Negan turned to me. Stepping closer, he grabbed my waist and pulled my closer, pressing his lips to mine in a heated and quick kiss that left me wanting more and also slightly dazed.

Pulling back he looked down at me. "You work in the laundromat?" he asked and all I could do was nod, as my mouth refused to speak. "I'll come find you after I've dealt with this shit."

Once again I found myself in a situation where I couldn't argue even if I wanted to. What Negan wanted, Negan got, and right now I was his object of desire. Sure, I could say no, but we both knew I didn't want to.

Having nothing else to say, he started for the door to leave. But just as his hand reached for the handle, I spoke up.

"Happy birthday, Negan."

He paused and turned to me. It took a second or two, but eventually a small smile formed on his lips before he opened the door and left.

 **Okay, so there you have it, my first Negan/OC fic, my first one-shot fic and my first prompt fic. I know the prompt was _Negan's birthday_ and I didn't really focus on the birthday part that much, but this is what came to mind, so… Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed :):)**

 **Bamby**


	2. Chapter 2: Rainy Afternoon

**For Ash's Writing Challenge Round 2. My prompt was Rainy Afternoon. I'm continuing with Making Fun a Priority, because apparently I can't do one-shots (if I start a story, I need to make it into an actual story) :P**

 **Summary: After what happened with Negan, in his bedroom on his birthday… Now she was faced with a problem. It had been days since it all happened and she hadn't seen Negan since. Not once. Had she done something wrong? Was she not good enough?**

 **Warnings: Smut and language.**

 **Bamby**

It had been a week since the incident with Negan in his room. A week since he said he would come to see me in the laundromat, but never came. At first I'd brushed it off, trying not to think about it. I'd been so sure he'd come find me. I'd been apprehensively waiting for him to walk through the doors, with Lucille- his famous barb wire wrapped bat- resting on his shoulder. But he never came.

As the days went by, I was beginning to wonder if it was me. If I was the reason why he hadn't shown up. Was I not good enough? Was it just a one of fling? Was it just a game to him? Honestly, I wouldn't blame him if that was the case. He was Negan, after all. He could have anyone he wanted, so why would he want me?

My mood had diminished with each passing day. Before I hadn't had much of a life outside of work, but now it was even worse. I avoided any chances of bumping into him. I avoided any chances of seeing him and being reminded of the event that meant so much to me, but obviously so little to him.

Work was all I did. Work, eat and sleep. My room had become my haven more than ever before. It was where you'd find me during the hours between jobs.

Mags, Rosie and Eunice had noticed the change in my mood. Mags had made it her mission to make me smile at least once a day, to include me in her antics more than she had before. Eunice had softened a little, her grumpiness being replaced with stern worry. While Rosie, who wasn't the most clued in person, had suddenly become more aware of me.

All three of them were constantly offering support and trying their best to cheer me up. I guess part of it was because they felt slightly responsible, it had been their idea for me to go to Negan's room in the first place.

"I wish we had windows." Rosie's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

Looking away from the clothes I was folding, I found her staring at the dull, grey, concret walls.

The laundry was down in the basement of the factory we called home. Sanctuary. I hadn't left the premises in around two years. For the last few days, Eunice had offered to hang all the clothes outside, which meant I hadn't seen the sky in some time. But that's something I had to live with if I want to avoid Negan.

Seeing the sad look in Rosie's eyes as she day dreamed, staring at the wall, I couldn't help but smile lightly at her. "What's so good about a window, huh?"

To be honest, I agreed with her. I would have loved to have some natural light coming in. But I realised the effort she was making, trying to start a conversation, trying to distract me. So, I was going to go with it, hoping that if we had something to talk about, I would stop thinking about Negan and everything I must have done wrong.

"Oh, everything." she turned to give me a bright, dreamy smile. "But I always loved to see the sun setting. So pretty." she looked over to Eunice. "Don't you just love all the colours?"

Eunice thought about it for a moment, as she stopped her folding to look at the wall where Rosie had been staring. "I always preferred the night. When it's cold, and quiet, and dark."

"Sounds like you and the night are the same thing." Mags mumbled, earning a glare from Eunice.

"Let me guess, you like the bright sunny mornings?"

Mags' grin faultered for a moment. "What's so bad about mornings? All the birds singing, the flowers blooming, the sun out. All that bright colour and energy. Nothing's better than that."

As my friends had been talking I couldn't stop my smile from growing bit by bit, because Mags had been right. Eunice was like a cool night, scary when you're unsure but if you look at it from a different angle you can see just how beautiful it is. Mags was just like a bright morning, awake and colourful, always able to bring a smile to any face. While Rosie was like a sunset evening, never the same, but always amazing and warm.

"What about you, Brandy?" Eunice asked as she got back to folding, glancing over at me as she spoke. "Are you a night person?"

"No, she's definitely a morning girl." Mags beamed.

Rosie smiled as well. "Oh, you must love the sunset."

I shrugged, while looking down at the clothes in front of me as I got back to work. "Actually, I always preferred rainy afternoons. They always made me feel fresh and new. Like they washed away everything bad in the world."

Sitting at the window, watching the water drip down the glass, snuggling up in a blanket, listening to the drops hit the roof. Or running out and jumping in the puddles, spinning around and around, looking up at the sky as the rain fell on my face. I loved everything about the rain.

Rosie hummed contently, her eyes looking off into a far memory as she nodded. "I like the rain too." she agreed, smiling widely.

…

I guess luck had finally turned back around and decided to join me after all. After a long day at work, I'd been about to head off to my room but was stopped by my growling stomach. Usually I ignored it and just made myself a cup of tea in my room- using the tea and kettle I'd bought with my points. But I could tell it wouldn't be enough to keep me satisfied until morning, so I had no other choice but to head over to the main building and get some food.

Where does luck come into it you ask? Well, the moment I stepped outside, I found myself looking up at the grey sky, smiling widely at the heavy rain as it fell down on Sanctuary and all the people rushing around, trying to get to cover.

Memories of my past came to mind. The majority- if not all- of my happy moments had come been when it was raining. No matter how bad things had been, I'd always found the rain a way to sooth myself and have a little fun.

Fun.

When Negan and I had talked, I'd told him fun was over rated. That it was time consuming. Not worth the time or energy it cost.

But at that moment, seeing the rain and everyone hurrying to get inside which left me on my own… I couldn't help myself. With one small step, I moved away from the cover of the building and into the rain. Closing my eyes, I smiled and let the drops run down my face. It was like I'd said earlier, I instantly felt everything bad just wash away.

A small giggle escaped my lips as I decided to do something completely ridiculous and immature. Opening my eyes, I ran.

I ran past all the buildings and away from everyone as my smile grew and so did my excitement. I ran and ran, and fast as I could until I came to a small vegetable garden, and a patch of grass.

Coming to a stop, far enough away from the buildings now, I lifted my arms and began to spin. Laughing and smiling, I looked up at the sky as I felt the drops land on me. Stopping I looked at the ground, spotting a puddle. With a jump, I splashed into the water, laughing harder.

I knew I was being childish, and I knew this was all ridiculous, but I didn't care. I hadn't felt this free in… I couldn't even remember. That right there, that was enough to make me feel better than I had in over a week.

Caught up in the fun and my thoughts, I hadn't been paying enough attention to what I was doing. Before I knew what was happening, I slipped on some mud and fell back, landing in the biggest puddle.

 _Why am I so clumsy?_

Suddenly I was no longer laughing. Now, I was shivering and hugging myself as I looked down at my soaked and muddy jeans, white shirt and thin blue flannel.

"What the fuck?"

My head shot up at the sound of his voice. My eyes went wide at the sight of his nearing figure. Quickly looking away, my heart racing with nerves and fear, I tried my best to pull myself up, but found my hands unable to grip on to anything without slipping.

A set of black boots came to stop beside me. Slowly, my eyes began the travel from those shoes, up the pair of dark jean covered legs, past the unzipped leather jacket and grey shirt that hid a lean body, before they locked onto the dark pair of eyes looking down at me. Lucille sat on her perch, rested on his shoulder. His hair was a little out of place due to the rain. But he still looked as good as he ever did, which I hated.

I hated that I was so attracted to this man even though there was no way anything could ever happen between us. Even if something did happen, it's not like he'd be mine. He had _six_ wives, how was I supposed to compete with that? What, would I just become number seven? Would we each have him for a day? Would I even be able to do that? Would I be willingly to share my partner?

 _Whoa there girl. Don't you think you're getting a little carried away there? He's not interested, remember?_

Right. I mentally sighed as I remembered the empty promises he'd given me just a week ago. If he really had been interested, he would have come found me. Maybe not that day. Maybe not the next. But sometime, in the last seven days. The fact he hadn't come, told me where I stood. I'd just been a distraction, a convenience, nothing more.

"You wanna tell me what the fuck you're doin' down there?" his voice pulled me from my thoughts.

Once again, I was looking up at him, finding it hard to speak.

I hated that. How he made me feel so inferior and small around him. But it wasn't his fault. Not entirely. I imagined he made everyone feel that way. He just had a powerful vibe about him.

"You gonna answer me, doll?"

Hearing him give me the same pet name he had the first time we met, reminded me of the week I'd just been through. It was like a slap to the face.

Sure, I didn't have the right to be s upset as I was. But suddenly, looking up at him as the rain continued to pour down on us, and the muddy puddle I sat in soaked into my clothes more, I felt myself snap.

"Does it matter? I'm finished now. I was just about to go to my room. You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine on my own." I grumbled, as I once again tried to pull myself up.

But I wasn't getting far. I wasn't getting anywhere. The ground was too slippery. I couldn't get a grip.

Shaking his head, Negan continued to stand there looking down at me. "One. Everything everyone does matters. Two. There is no fucking way you're going back to your room. Not like that. Three. Who said I'm worried. And four. You're clearly not fine." he finished, offering me his hand. "Take the fucking hand, doll. Before I throw you over my shoulder and take you inside that way."

I swallowed hard, picturing me hanging over his shoulder, his strong arms holding me in place as he carried me into the Sanctuary. I'd have a perfect view of his ass… He'd have a perfect view of mine…

As much as the idea seemed appealing to me, I didn't exactly like the idea of him carrying me around like he owns me while walking through the Sanctuary where anyone and everyone can see us… Which is why I- grudgingly- gave him my hand, letting him pull me to my feet.

A grin slipped onto his lips. "Good choice."

His hand slid into mine, his fingers wrapping around to grasp me carefully but firmly. With a tug, he pulled me to my feet. Though the tug was a little harder than necessary, causing me to stumble slightly. My hand instinctively came to rest on his chest, keeping me from falling once more.

Before I realised what I was doing, my fingers spread over his chest, exploring the muscles and lines under his jacket. I couldn't feel much through the leather, but my imagination was running pretty wild at that moment…

"You enjoying yourself, doll?"

I jumped at the husky sound of his voice. Looking up, I could see his grin still in place. Only now his eyes were slightly darker. It didn't take a genius to figure out why.

"Come on." he pulled away slightly, though he hadn't let go of my hand yet. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Unable to refuse or question him, still a little stunned by the events that had just unfolded, I allowed him to walk us out of the garden and towards the buildings. Once we were closer he let go of my hand. I wasn't paying much attention to where we were going, instead I was trying my best not too look like a deer caught in headlights as we walked through the factory.

When Negan stopped in front of one of the elevators- the one that lead to his quarters- that's when my nerves began to sky rocket. My socking wet and cold clothes had been the reason why I was shivering before. Now it was also because of my fear…

Stepping inside, Negan waited for me to join him before he pressed the button to close the doors, and then the button to the level his room sat. I stood in the corner, trying not to look at him as I shivered away. He whistled a tune, facing the doors, looking Lucille over as he waited.

He stepped out the moment the elevator stopped and the doors opened. He didn't look back to make sure I followed. I guess at that point he just assumed I would. He was right. I did exactly that. Only my steps were nowhere near as confident as his were. No. With each passing step, my fear and nerves just grew and grew. To the point where I was actually surprised I could still move.

…

I stood in the middle of Negan's room, watching as he stepped away from the fire he'd just lit. He moved to the dresser in the corner and pulled out a dark grey shirt, a pair of black sweatpants and a blanket. Setting them on his bed, he then moved to his bathroom, disappearing around the corner before emerging with two towels.

While he'd been busy, I'd been shivering where I stood, freezing my ass off.

Heading over to me now, Negan gestured to me. "Well, take 'em off."

My jaw fell open. "Excuse me?"

Shaking his head, as if he didn't have time for this, Negan sighed. "You're gonna get sick, standin' there in those fucking soaked clothes. I saw the way you were limping while we were walking. You clearly hurt your ankle."

Thinking about it now, my ankle did hurt… I'd just been too preoccupied freaking out to really pay it much attention. But now that my attention had been drawn to it, I suddenly felt standing very uncomfortable.

"If you wanna head off to where ever the fuck you call home, then fine. Go. I'm not gonna stop you. But if I were you, I'd want the help I'm offering. You don't have to get naked, but things'll work better if you get rid of the clothes."

Hesitating, I thought about my options. But if I was being completely honest… isn't this what I'd been wanting for the past week? Some time alone with Negan where clothes would be removed? Sure, it wasn't exactly how I'd envisioned it, but beggars can't be choosers, right?

Taking a deep breath, I moved to slip my flannel off my shoulders, avoiding his gaze as I did. Once the material was off, I let it fall to the ground before I grabbed my shirt and began to pull it over my head. As soon as I was free from the shirt, I dropped it to the ground as I adjusted my glasses, still shaking with nerves. My fingers moved to my pants, but they were so cold I could hardly grab the button to my jeans.

"Here." Negan stepped forward, placing the towels by his feet.

I froze as I felt the skin of his hands brush my stomach as he undid the button and zip of my jeans. My legs were shaking like crazy as he knelt down to help me get out of my pants completely.

"Nervous?" he asked, slowly looking up to grin at me.

"Cold." I responded, to scared to smile back.

It wasn't a complete lie. I was freezing. But it wasn't the cold that had me shaking this much. It was fear. Nerves. Uncertainty. There was just no way I was going to admit that to him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his hand coming up to brush the back of my knee.

I jumped at the contact, nearly falling over.

Chuckling lightly, Negan slowly stood until he was looking down at me once more. "I've been looking for you, doll."

"Wh-wh-what?"

"Shits been crazy all week. Haven't had a fucking second to breath. But everyday I still manage to go to the cafeteria to get food." raising his hand, he gently cupped my cheek as his eyes began to darken again. "Everyday I hope you'll be there."

"W-why?"

"So I can have another taste."

Suddenly his lips were on mine. With that one simple action, I could feel the world begin to spin out of control. Everything inside me twirling with happiness as his lips moulded against mine.

The kiss was hungry, and controlling. It was clear who had the power here. But even if it hadn't been clear, I would have given it to Negan. I would give it all to Negan.

My hands came up to grip his jacket as my tongue slipped into his mouth. Moaning, I pulled his hair, pressing him against me, grinding my body against his. The hunger inside me was cry out. _Screaming_ for more. Snaking down his jacket, my hand found it's way to his jeans and over the bulge growing there.

He let out a growl, his hands grasped my waist as he turned us, backing me up towards his bed. Once we were moving, he shifted his hands to grasp my thighs before he quickly lifted me off the ground and held me to him.

With each step, I felt myself grind against him, feeling everything he had to offer. It fueled my need to have him. To feel all of him. But I was only there for a moment before he pulled me away from him and tossed me onto the soft mattress of his bed.

Stalking towards me, he began to undress. I felt everything in my flush to my core as I bite my lip, unable to look away from him. Though as his jeans and underwear fell to the ground, I found my eyes glued to a particular part of him…

He was big. Not ridiculously and unbelievably big, but still bigger than I'd had. Bigger than normal for sure. It was the thickness of him that had me clenching my legs together. I could already tell that he was going to hit all the right spots.

 _Oh, God… Yes!_ I moaned, licking my lips hungrily.

"You like that, doll?" he asked as he grasped himself, pumping a couple of times as he stepped closer to the bed. "You like what you see?"

Words escaped me. All I could do was nod.

Grin plastered on his lips, he nodded to the lat of my clothes. "Well, take 'em off."

Not needing to be told twice, I acted quickly, stripping my bra and underwear off as fast as I could. The promise of what was to come had me practically dripping in anticipation. There was no way I was wasting any more time here.

As soon as I was naked, Negan nodded his head approvingly. "Good girl." he pumped himself once more. "Now scoot back."

Once again, I did as he said, scooting back to the pillows. As I moved I watched as he let himself go before he took the last step towards the bed. Reaching over, he slid a hand into the draw of his nightstand, retrieving a condom. My eyes stayed trained on his hands as he worked the rubber onto his member.

Once he was ready, he climbed onto the bed, setting himself between my legs. It was then that he really took a moment to take in the sight of me, looking at every inch of my body.

I felt shy, insecure, uncertain. I began to wonder… Was I was good enough? Has he had better? How did his other lovers look naked? How had he looked at them? How had he touched them? What did he like? Was I any good at this? Was I going to be a disappointment? Was this just a one time thing?

But my thoughts faded away the moment I felt him brush at my entrance.

"So fucking perfect." he mumbled before pushing into me.

I moaned at the intrusion, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in deeper. There was pain under the pleasure as he stretched me more than I'd been stretched before. But it felt good. So good.

"Oh, Negan." I moaned, feeling him fill me completely.

We built a rhythm pretty quickly. He knew what he was doing, and exactly how to move. He hit all the good spots with every thrust, every time, without fail. It didn't take me long to catch up and work with him.

My senses drowned in the moment. I could feel all of him, not just his member as it moved inside me. I could feel his muscles move, his breath on my skin, his heart beating hard in his chest. I could smell the thin sheen of sweat forming on his skin, the musky scent of sex and the rain that cling to both of us. I could taste the kiss as it still lingered on my lips. I could hear our bodies slapping together, and the rain as it continued to pour outside. I could see him moving in and out of me, his dark lust filed eyes taking in every inch of our combined forms.

"So fucking good." he leaned forward to press a bite on my neck as he mumbled in my ear. "Feel so fucking good, baby. Want to bury myself in you forever. Never let you leave my room."

Another moan slipped from my lips, followed by a whimper as my legs squeezed him a little tighter.

He let out a grunt that sounded like it should have come from an animal. My nails dug into his back as my insides began to curl, the noise pushing me a little closer to the edge.

Hell, everything he did pushed me closer and closer. Every noise and move he made. Every time his eyes locked onto mine, showing me the desire he felt for me in that moment. Every time his member brushed that perfect spot inside.

I was so close. So very, very close. It would take long now.

Seeming to read my mind, Negan leaned forward, pressing his body to me as his lips crashed into mine in a heated kiss. The added friction of our bodies rubbing together, and the extra heat caused by our intertwining tongues, it was all I needed.

Everything inside me, all the energy and sensations that had been building up, rushed to my core in a heated ball. I had no control of my hips as they thrashed against him.

"God girl." he pressed a kiss to my neck. "So fucking good for me." he kept pumping, kept thrusting, adding to the intense feeling.

The heat from the ball in my core burst as he continued to thrust. I squirmed and whispered at the feeling, throwing my head back as a scream pulled itself from my lips.

Negan wasn't too far behind, his pace faultering as he pumped a few more times. He made sure he didn't crush me as he dropped to the bed beside me, his softening member slipping out of me as he did.

I was too tired to move or to care about what was coming next. There were still so many question, so much I wanted to know. But at that moment, all I wanted was to sleep.

Negan's arm slipped around my waist, tugging me closer to him. I didn't protest as he tucked me against his side. I didn't protest as he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. I didn't protest as he held me there.

I simply closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against mine as my cells buzzed and the rain poured outside.

But before I could sleep, I there was something I had to say. "I was having fun."

"Hmm?" he questioned, confused but too tired to speak.

Rolling over to face him, I answered his unspoken question. "That's what I was doing outside. I was having fun… I thought I should take your advice and let loose."

A grin slipped onto his lips as he opened his eyes to look down at me. "Get used to it, doll. From now on, fun is a priority."

 **Bamby**


	3. Chapter 3: Vibrator

**For _Ash's Writing Challenge Round 3_. My prompt was _Vibrator_ … never really used kinks in my stories before (intentionally, at least) so bear with me guys… Before I get started though, I think I should mention that I won't be using the prompt how most people probably think it would be used… I know that might not make sense, but all I can really say without giving up too much is that I'll be using _vibrations_ and not a vibrator.**

 ** _Summary:_** **Brandi was on cloud nine. It had been a few days since she and Negan had been together, and she was still coming down from the high he'd given her. But despite how good she still felt, Brandi was sure that Negan was done with her. That he'd had his fun and that it was over… Oh boy is she in for a surprise…**

 ** _Warnings_** **: smut and language.**

 **Bamby**

I felt amazing. I felt like I was on top of the world. My smile hadn't left my lips once over the last two days. Nothing could ruin the mood I was in. I felt incredible. Well… for the most part I did. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was still buzzing from sleeping with Negan. I still couldn't believe it had actually happened. But it had been a short-lived moment.

After we'd had sex, Negan and I had fallen asleep. By the time I woke up, it was dark and I was alone.

Negan had been nice enough to set some clothes on the end of his bed, for me to wear. Seeing as my clothes were still very wet and very muddy, he'd given me a pair of black sweat pants, and one of his white shirts. Of course, Negan and I had completely different body shapes and sizes… Where he was tall, I was tiny. Where he was lean and muscled, I was on the almost-too-unhealthy side of thin.

When I put his clothes on, I had to use my hair tie to tie pants so they'd stay in place. I also had to roll them up and hope I wouldn't trip- though knowing me I still would. The shirt was baggy, but not to the point where I was at risk of revealing anything, which meant I didn't have to worry about it too much. Though my anxiety constantly had me checking to make sure I wasn't flashing anything. He'd left me some socks as well, which were the only form of footwear I had to wear, to get back to my room.

Which is what I'd done. As soon as I was dressed, I'd gotten out of there. I didn't want to wait around. I wasn't sure if he wanted me to be there when he got back. I wasn't sure if he wanted me gone. I wasn't sure if he would have even cared. But I did.

I wanted to rest in my own bed. I wanted to be surrounded by some form of normality.

Having sex with Negan had been incredible, unforgettable. But it had also been surreal, and now that I was awake again- now that I was alone- I needed a moment to think it all over.

So, I'd limped back to my room- my ankle seemed to be worse than I thought it might be- and stayed there until I needed to go back to work the next day.

Negan never came looking for me, or his clothes.

But despite all that, I still felt incredible… and it seemed Eunice, Mags and Rosie had noticed.

Watching me carefully as I folded some clothes, Eunice tried to figure out what was different about me. "You look happy. Why?"

"Does there have to be a reason?" I countered.

"Of course." She replied as if that was obvious.

I chuckled lightly. "Well, there is none. I'm just happy."

"And glowy." Rosie added, smiling up at me. "You've been glowing for days."

Mags came over to stand next to me, looking me up and down as if she could figure it out. I'd been skeptical about the idea, until she spoke up.

"Have you been seeing someone?"

I could feel myself getting paler as my smile slipped for the shortest moment… I just hoped it hadn't been long enough for any of them to notice. The last thing I needed was for them to think I was seeing someone. They'd start asking questions. Questions I wouldn't answer. Which means they'd go snooping around, and I was pretty sure that would lead them to the truth.

If they found out I'd slept with Negan… I don't think that would go down very well. Eunice hated him with a passion. She thought he was rude and cruel, and monstrous. Mags joked around, she liked to make fun of the fact that I liked Negan, but she didn't like him much either. Hell, Rosie even thought he was scary. There was no way in hell any of them would accept me starting anything up with Negan.

 _Not that anything was or will start up_. I reminded myself.

"Nonsense." Eunice spoke up, pulling me from my thoughts. She looked to Mags as if she thought the other older woman was insane. "Our Brandi knows better than that. She knows now is not the time to go falling head over heels for some silly male."

I frowned slightly. "Uh… who said anything about falling head over heels?"

"It's in your eyes, silly." Rosie stepped up to my other side, lifting a hand to tap the side of my glasses.

My eyes went wide for a moment. "Are you saying you think I'm falling for a guy? That's ridiculous?"

"See." Eunice gave a firm nod. "I told you she's smart."

Rolling her eyes, Mags turned back to me. "Not saying your falling for a guy, sweetie. It's just… you do seem to be happier. And like Rosie said, you have been glowing? If you're not seeing someone, you must at least have gotten some kind of action." she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

Laughing again, I shook my head as I turned back to my work. "I swear you're like a twenty-something year old."

"She acts like it." Eunice grumbled. "Gosh I wish you were more mature."

"And I wish you were more fun." Mags countered.

Just like that, we got back to work. Neither of the ladies mentioned my change of attitude. No one brought up the subject of my dating, love, or sex life again. We just got back to cleaning and folding clothes, filling up the time with the usual conversation and laughter.

…

The sound of loud clangs echoing through the whole laundry-mat had everyone stop what they were doing and turn in the direction on the entrance. We all knew that sound. We all knew what was coming. Or well, _who_ was coming. Negan.

Eunice, Mags, Rosie and I weren't the only ones who worked in the laundry. There were a few other people who ae and went as they pleased. They had different jobs that had them all over the place. Seeing the faces of the nine or so extra people standing around, I could tell they wished they were anywhere but here at that moment.

When Negan walked around the corner, we all dropped to our knees and bowed our heads. We waited for me to speak, to let us back up. We waited to find out why he was here and what he wanted.

See the thing is, Negan very rarely came down to the laundry. I think I might have seen him down here two other times in the year or so that I'd lived at the Sanctuary. So seeing him here was a surprise to all of us, but it had me feeling a little extra nervous as I wondered if I was the reason why he was making an appearance.

We all heard his low chuckle as he walked to the middle of the room. "As you were." He called. Just like that, we were all up, getting back to work.

I winced at the pain in my ankle, and limped slightly as I moved to fold the basket of clothes I'd been working on before. But other than that, I did nothing to stand out for the crowd… of course, I already stood out from the crowd…

I felt his presence before I heard him. The hair on the back of my neck stood up when I was sure he'd come to stand behind me. I swear I could even smell him… and it was turning me on.

 _He_ was turning me on. All of him.

"Why the fuck are you working?" he asked me.

Still folding the clothes, I answered without turning to him. "Because it's my job, sir."

"I know it's your fucking job. But you're hurt, and the last fucking thing I need is for you to do more damage. Knowing how fucking clumsy you are, I'm surprised you haven't already."

"I'm fine." I insisted… which I regretted almost instantly.

"Are you disobeying orders?"

I jumped at the feel of his hand brushing the side of my arm. The back of his knuckles slid up my skin, leaving raised goosebumps behind. I did everything I could not to react, but I couldn't stop myself from freezing completely, my hands still holding the shirt I'd been working on.

"Answer me, doll." he was speaking in a lower and quieter voice now, so only I could hear him.

"N-n-no, I'm not disobeying." I barely managed to get out as my voice shook as much as my legs were.

His fingers had reached my shoulder and were now playing with the small hairs that I couldn't tuck into my high bun. "I liked it when you called me sir." he almost growled.

My own fingers were gripping the shirt so tightly, I felt and heard some of the seams rip. The sound had me drop the material before I quickly turned around to face him. Still not looking up at his face, I chose to look over his shoulder instead. It was only then that I noticed the other Saviours with him. Simon, Arat and Dwight.

Seeing them had me forget about my nervous as a curiosity began to bubble. Finally looking up at Negan, I gave him a questioning look, which he responded by giving me one of his signature grins.

Stepping and turning away from me, Negan addressed the rest of the workers, who had been so preoccupied by their own jobs that they hadn't even glanced at Negan or myself- not even Eunice, Mags or Rosie had… at least I hoped.

"Everybody, stop what you're doing." he ordered. Sure enough one by one everyone did as he said. Once all working ceased, Negan went on. "Surprise inspection time! All of you need to get the hell out so we can have these machines looked over. Don't need them fucking up on us. So, you're all done for the day. Get the hell out."

At first, everyone looked a little surprised and shocked, but after a couple of seconds, everyone started to walk hurriedly to the door. It was as if they couldn't wait to be free from Negan's presence. Or well, _most_ of the worked went to leave. Mag, Eunice and Rosie paused to look at me as they waited for me to follow them out.

Before I speak or move, Negan looked to the older woman. "Yes?" he asked expectantly.

"We're waiting for Brandi." Rosie smiled kindly, although I didn't miss her shifting a little closer to Eunice.

"She's staying here. I need someone to throw the wet clothes in the drier." Negan told her matter-of-factly.

Eunice looked from Negan, to me, and then to Simone, Dwight and Arat. "What? They can't do it?" she asked, gesturing to the Saviours. "Brandi's injured, they're healthy. It would make more sense." she noted. The fact she was questioning Negan had my jaw drop.

He just chuckled lightly. "You worried about her or something?"

Mags didn't hesitate as she answered his question. "Of course."

I watched as Negan shifted on the spot for a moment, rolling Lucille slightly as she sat on his shoulder. I wasn't sure if he was getting pissed off, seeing as these women weren't doing as he said, _and_ they were questioning him. If he was getting pissed, that wasn't good. If he wasn't, then colour me surprised. But either way, I wasn't going to risk finding out what he was going to do or say next.

Giving the three women reassuring looks, I nodded to in the direction of the exit. "I'll be fine. You guys should go. I'll see you tomorrow." I assured them.

With one last unsure glance at Negan and myself, Eunice was the first to move. She nudged Rosie and grabbed Mags' arm before they all turned to leave.

The room fell silent for a few seconds after they'd left. The weight of it pressed down on my chest uncomfortably. I wasn't sure what was coming next, and that was scaring the hell out of me. But I was trying to trust Negan. I _wanted_ to trust him.

"Simon." Negan looked to his right-hand man. "Why don't you, Arat and Dwighty-boy get to work on those machines over there." he gestured to the empty washing machines close by. "Were gonna get all this wet crap in the driers." he told them as he grabbed a basket of wet clothes.

"On it." Simon nodded as he moved to give orders to the others and get to work himself.

With his people now busily working Negan turned to me. "You wanna show me where the driers are, doll?"

Nodding, I grabbed a basket for myself as I turned for the room off to the side where we had a few driers that were only used for certain occasions Meaning we only ever used them if directly ordered to, or if we were doing Negan's laundry.

The two of us said nothing as we got to work, throwing the clothes in the driers. Negan ended up doing most of the work after he saw how much I was actually limping. Though it wasn't like I was in much pain. It was more uncomfortable than anything. Not that he would believe me.

So I'd stepped aside and let him do what he wanted. I ended up leaning against the bench in the room as I watched him reaching into each machine to throw clothes inside. Some were front loaders, some were top loaders… but the front loaders were my favourite. Seeing him bend like that. My eyes definitely wandered.

After he'd thrown the clothes into the machines, he walked out to get another basket. On the way to the door, he'd passed the bench and given me a stern look. One that said, 'don't move'. Knowing better than to go against his orders, I stayed exactly where I was.

When Simon walked in, I was definitely surprised. The fact he was carrying a basket surprised me even more. When he bent over to throw clothes into one of the machines, I was wondering if I my surprise could grow even more… When my eyes began to wander and I found myself looking him up and down… Well it's safe to say I'd never been more surprised in my life

"You enjoying yourself, doll?"

I jumped at the sound of Negan's voice. Turning to look at where he stood in the doorway, I felt my cheeks began to redden as I wondered what the scene must look like to him. Me staring at his right-hand man's ass… I was pretty sure that wasn't something he'd wanted to see.

Simon stood up and looked from Negan to me, clearly having no clue as to what Negan was talking about.

"Simon," Negan slowly pulled his gaze from mine as he turned to the other man, "Why don't you go back out there and make sure the Dwight isn't fucking up any of the machines."

Shrugging, Simon started for the door. "No problem." he nodded as he left the room.

Negan reached forward and rolled the metal door across. It was rarely moved, which meant it was a little hard to close and made an awfully loud screeching noise, but Negan didn't seem to care. The look on his face told me as much. At that moment, he wanted privacy, and that's all that mattered.

Once the door was closed, he started to walk towards me. "You gonna answer the question, doll?"

Backing up, I watched him continue to head my way while I tried to find my voice. But it seemed I was suddenly mute. Or well, I couldn't speak. I was too nervous, with a slight bubbling fear waiting in the corner as I wondered what he was going to do now. Now that he'd seen me eyeing Simon.

Yet I knew I had to speak, and I knew his patience would run thin very soon. So, with no other choice, I said the first thing that came to mind… and instantly regretted it.

"I can eye other people if I want. We've screwed around a bit, but that's it. I mean, it's not like we're an item, or that I belong to you."

 _Idiot_.

Negan stopped walking. Looking me up and down as he silently thought, he reached over to lay Lucille on the bench.

The movement had been minor, and was finished in a matter of moments, but it had been long enough for me to think about what he might do next. Was he going to yell at me? Laugh? Was he angry? Amused? Did he agree with me? Or was I wrong? Did sleeping with him mean I was now his?

No. I wasn't. He may think I am, but I didn't want to be like one of his wives. I was my own person, and if he thought us sleeping together meant I was now his to boss around and have fun with whenever he wanted, then he was sorely mistaken.

Before he could speak, I went on, needing to get y point across. "You have six wives Negan. _Six_. I'm just another girl to you. But I'm not just another girl, I deserve more than some random tumble here and there. I deserve more than a guy who probably doesn't even know my name." straightening myself up, holding my chin high, I started for the door, determined to walk right out of there.

Of course, my aching ankle wasn't making it easy… It was probably the reason why Negan rolled his eyes and sighed as I went to pass him.

Grabbing me, he lifted me off the ground and carried me over to one of the machines that wasn't on, setting me on top of it. "You done." when I just folded my arms over my chest and glared at him, he shook his head in amusement. "First of all, doll, you have no idea how cute you are when you're angry. Secondly, my wives have got nothing to do with this. I fuck who I want when I want. You think if I didn't care about you I would have dragged my ass all the way down to this shithole of a laundry? No. And thirdly, your name is Brandi." my eyes went wide with surprise. He just nodded. "Yeah, I know you're name. So, if you're done, I would very much like to screw your brains out now."

All I could do was nod my head, unable to form words. I was still too surprised. Still shocked from finding out he actually does know my name.

Grinning, he slowly leaned down to press a kiss to my lips. It was slow and sensual and just made me melt. The way his hand came up to cup my cheek. _Oh, God_. I groaned, leaning into him more.

He pulled back slightly as his hand that had been resting on the machine, next to my leg, came up to tug on the hem of my shirt… or should I say _his_ shirt.

"I was going to get this back, but seeing you wearing my clothes… Fuck. Me. You're so fucking hot." he groaned, his fingers moving to slid under the shirt. "Keep it on."

I wasn't sure if that was an order or a request, but either way I was definitely going to listen. The idea that me wearing his clothes turned him on, turned me on. Hell, the idea that _I_ turned him on, turned me on, is that weird?

As his lips found mine again, I found myself unable to concentrate on anything outside the little bubble that was forming around us. I was so engrossed in the moment that Simon or one of the others could end up walking in on us, and I wouldn't even notice. All that mattered to me at that moment was Negan… and getting what I wanted from him.

Knowing what was coming, I felt no need to take my time. My heat was growing quickly, and I wanted him. _Now._

Reaching for my jeans, I unbuttoned and zipped them before shifting so I could slip them off. Negan stepped back as I did, grinning as he watched me wriggle out of my pants. He grabbed at my boots and pulled them off so my pants could fall to the ground. Biting my lip, I slipped my hands underneath my shirt and worked the clip of my bra so I could pull the garment off. Negan watched my every move, his eyes following the bra as it fell to the floor.

As soon as my bra touched the ground, I looked up at Negan.

His eyes scanned my entire length. His gaze moved slowly as if he were trying to take in every inch of bare skin. The colour of his eyes grew darker and darker the longer he stared. The bulge in his pants became more and more apparent. But it was when his tongue peaked out to run along his lips… that's when I thought I was going to pass out right then and there.

I squeezed my thighs together, feeling my need and want burning between my legs.

Stepping closer again, Negan lifted his hand to grip my hair gently so he could tilt my head to the side. I felt him nibble at the spot between my neck and shoulder, as his other hand slid down my leg. Everything inside me was buzzing. I felt so alive, feeling him touch me, and we hadn't even gotten to the best part yet.

"I wanna have a little fun first." I felt him grin against my skin as his hand left my leg. "I hope you're ready, doll."

The next thing I heard was the sound of a button being pressed before I felt the machine underneath me shift.

I jumped back, pulling away from Negan as my jaw fell and my hands gripped the machine. "What are you doing?"

Negan simply grinned.

Before I knew it, the machine began to move more. Faster this time. It began to vibrate underneath me as I gripped onto its edges for dear life.

Reaching for my hips, Negan adjusted my position as if he knew exactly what he was doing… which I guess he did. "Just enjoy it." he continued to grin as he watched me.

The new position felt… different. It was like nothing I'd felt before.

My eyes rolled back, my back arched. A moan escaped my lips as I felt the vibrations get all the right spots in all the right ways. That's honestly the best way I could describe it, because any other explanation was lost in the sensations coursing through me.

My hips began to rock against the machine as I felt an orgasm fast approaching. My hands left the edges of the machine only to grip onto myself. I pulled at my hair, grasped my breasts, squeezed my thighs. I touched everything and everywhere, needing the contact. Desperately wanting the contact.

The first orgasm was intense. I mean, I screamed and I thrashed against the drier. I rode it like it was a horse. I milked it for all it was worth. The orgasm was hard and insane. Like an explosion of pure ecstasy. Everything inside me vibrated almost as much as the machine. Everything felt incredible.

I had thought that would be it… but it wasn't... Negan's hands still held me there, keeping me in place.

Before I could recover from my first orgasm, another one hit me. This one wasn't as intense, but it was longer. I swear it was the longest orgasm I'd ever experienced. Ripples rang out through my whole body, like waves of bliss. My feet twitched ever so slightly. I groaned as my head fell forward, my hips grinding against the machine, my hands grasping at Negan's.

Still held in place, the machine still vibrating, I gasped as I was hit by three quick and short orgasms over a brief period of time. Each were still incredible, but were gone before I could really enjoy them.

Breathing heavily, I shook my head at Negan, pushing his hands away. "No more. I can't."

Looking at me with the smuggest and biggest grin I'd ever seen, Negan shifted my hips and slid me across the machine so my legs wrapped around him. As he lifted me I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his shoulder, completely spent. I was exhausted. Never had I ever experienced anything like what I'd just been through. I had a feeling it was going to take me _days_ to recover.

I felt Negan set me on a firm surface again, only this one wasn't vibrating. I hummed my thanks as he pulled away slightly, too look at me.

"Fuck, me. You have no idea how hot you look right now." he leaned forward to press a kiss to my shoulder. "You still with me, doll?"

"Mm-hmm." was the only response I could form at that moment.

He chuckled in my ear. "Gonna need more than that. Need to know you're good for some more." He mumbled, nibbling on my neck now.

"More?" I almost groaned in protest. _How could he possibly think I was up for more?_

But when he pressed up against me and I felt how hard he was, I didn't care how tired I was or how sore I was probably going to be tomorrow. I needed to feel him inside me.

My hand grabbed at his leather jacket, pulling on it as I shifted closer, pressing myself against him as much as possible, grinding against him. He got the message. Not needing me to say anything, Negan reached his belts, and the button and zip of his pants. His jeans and underwear were off in record time. Then his hands moved to my underwear- which I still wore. He hooked his fingers around them before he tore them off me, causing me to gasp.

Grinning, he brought my underwear to his face, giving them a quick sniff. "Mm." he groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. "Keep these for later." his grin grew ever so slightly as he tucked my underwear into one of his leather jacket pockets.

I only had a moment to be shocked that he was keeping my underwear. Only a moment before his hands were grasping my hips and leading me to him once more. Only a moment before I felt him push himself inside me in one long, hard stroke.

He was a thick and long and hard as I remember. He hit every spot that made me want to scream, stroking them with every thrust. He moved slow, but hard, slamming back into me each time. Hitting my cervix over and over.

My head fell back as I moaned, hands gripping onto the counter for dear life. I could feel myself reaching my peak once again. I could feel everything building up, waiting for the last push…

Negan continued to thrust, I tried to keep up but found myself too exhausted to do much. Not that he seemed to mind.

"So good, sweetheart." he groaned. "Feel so good."

He shifted in a certain way then that had me fall back completely as I let out another long moan. My legs squeezed him, pulling him in more, urging him to keep doing exactly what he was doing right now. He was hitting something new now, and it was delicious.

"Keep going, Negan." I begged, one of my hands coming up to pull at my hair as the other grasped the hem of my shirt. "Right there. Faster. _Please_."

Doing as I asked, he picked up the pace. Still moving as hard he continued to thrust in that position, hitting the juicy spot that made me want to scream. Over and over, like a wave of anticipation growing inside me. The buildup was getting so intense I thought I was going to pass out.

When his fingers stroked at the bundle of nerves between my legs, I came undone.

Screaming, I arched my back. Everything inside me hummed and sung and vibrated and pulsed. Every nerve, every cell, every fiber of my being was alive and in complete and total heaven. My core clenched around Negan as I twitched against him, riding out my orgasm. I pulled at my shirt and let out a long moan. My head grew foggy as I found it hard to think of anything, all I could do was feel. All I could feel was Negan still inside me, and my body singing.

He continued to thrust before I felt him come as well, not too long after me. Staying inside me as he grew soft, Negan leaned forward, out of breath. The words that fell from his mouth making me freeze as my high washed away.

"Marry me."

 **I just wanna give a shout out to _Yugioh13_ , _I'm a Nerd and Proud_ , _Newstache_ , _Adagio c_ , _EJM87_ , _MissTeller-Ortiz-Dixon_ , _Caity6991_ , and _chipiam_ for the reviews I received for the first and second chapters. Also to the people who have followed and favourited. Usually I give a little message to each individual reviewer at the beginning of each chapter, but seeing as I never know when I'll get another challenge (which is the only way I continue with this story…) I just thought I'd give a quick kudos to you guys here :):)**

 **Any-who, thanks for reading, and don't forget to review! xo**

 **Bamby**


	4. Chapter 4: Crisp, Cool Air

**For Ash's** _ **"Fall into Negan" Writing Challenge**_ **. My prompt was** _ **Crisp, Cool Air**_ **. This is gonna take of right after the last part :):)**

 _ **Summary**_ **: Negan's proposal isn't taken well, which puts a wedge between him and Brandi. As much as she likes him and the fun they have, she's not sure if saying yes would be the right choice. With the question unanswered and doubts hanging in the air, Negan leaves Brandi to her thoughts… but that might not have been the right choice on his behalf…**

 **Warnings: Language, no smut in this one… sorry guys!**

 **Bamby**

"Marry me."

A laugh escaped my lips… only to die once my eyes met Negan's. "Wait, you're being serious?"

"Of course I'm being fucking serious." He answered as if that should be obvious. "Marry me."

Despite the pleasant thrum still pulsing inside me, I shifted to sit up as I tried to wrap my head around the situation. "What about your wives?"

He stepped back slightly, shrugging. "What about them?"

"Do you really think you need another?"

"This has never been about need, Sweetheart. It's about want." His signature grin fell into place. "And I want you." His eyes roamed my body, taking in the still naked skin. "Oh boy do I want you."

"Did you ever stop to think about what I might want?" By the look of the frown that replaced his grin, I could tell what I the meaning to my words where lost. Instead I sounded harsher than I'd meant, the message misinterpreted.

"If you're trying to tell me you didn't enjoy-"

"No!" I quickly cut him off. "Of course I enjoyed… that." Gesturing between us, I found it hard to say the words as nerves and embarrassment began to bubble inside me. "I like you Negan. But… I don't want to be the next old-fling. I don't want to give myself to you completely, only to lose you once some new girl walks into your life."

His grin found its way back onto his lips. "You don't want to share me?"

Holding his gaze, I tried to look strong and confident as I told him the real underlining problem. "I don't want to have to compete for your attention. I don't want to be replaced."

"You really think you're replaceable?"

"I think I'm forgettable."

The look that crossed Negan's face was one I'd never seen before, and that frightened me. It made my stomach curl in fear and my heart sink far into the depths of my chest in order to protect itself, to hide from the consequences of my spoken truth. My mind scolded me for saying such a thing to his face, while my nerves screamed in panic, vibrating to the edge of combustion.

A hard knock on the door stilled the room.

Pulling away from me, Negan adjusted his jean, redoing the zip, button and belt as he headed over to see who was on the other side. Grasping the handle, he gave and hard but short tug so he could look to the person, but also made sure they couldn't look in- seeing as I was still half naked.

"What?" His voice was harsh, angered, impatient. Negan clearly didn't like having been interrupted.

"One of the machines aren't looking too good. We're gonna need someone to come down here and fix it." Simon told him, seeming unaffected by Negan's brash attitude. "And Fat Joey just called over the radio. We got some problems in the cafeteria… apparently there's been another fight."

"For fuck's sake." Groaning, Negan glanced at me, before turning back to give Simon a nod. "Let's get this shit sorted before it fucking gets out of hand." There was a pause as he continued to stand there. I listened to the sound of Simon walking away, once he was far enough, Negan spoke to me without looking my way. "If you think we're finished here, we're not." Just like that, he was gone.

I waited for a moment. Listening out, I made sure I was alone, everyone else gone, before I pulled myself up. I knew the clothes would be fine in the driers for a while. I knew I had some time to kill before I would need to get back to work. So, I was going to use that time to calm myself and clear my mind.

Feeling the thrum and pleasant ache from my activities with Negan still tingling against my panic nerves, covering them like a protective and nurturing blanket, I slid off the bench and began to dress myself. Ignoring my feelings- which included the tingling, and even the uncomfortable throb in my injured ankle- I focuses on pulling my clothes on quickly so I could get out of there as soon as possible.

…

Bursting through the factory doors, I breathed in the crisp, cool air. It was the slap to the face I needed. It calmed the racing thoughts whirling through my mind. Walking along the dirt path, I headed for nowhere. All I wanted was to stay out in the chilled air, and let it sink in through my skin, down to my bones, in the hopes it would cool the residue heat from Negan's touch.

Negan's proposal had come out of nowhere. It had been the biggest shock in a day full of surprises. Never would I have imagined him saying those two words to me.

Then again, I never would have imagined him paying me any attention at all. A few weeks ago, if you had told me Negan was going to propose to me I would have laughed in your face. I thought for sure he didn't even know who I was. But, maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. That didn't matter anymore. Now he knew me, and now I seemed to be at the center of his attention.

Part of me was glad I was now on Negan's radar, and it wasn't just because of the sex. Negan, he could make me feel good in ways I never knew possible. He made me feel wanted, and sexy. But he also made me laugh, which was hard in the world we lived in. He made me feel safe as well- which was ironic, I know.

The rest of me was unsure. Marrying him probably wouldn't be the right decision, but was sleeping with him any better? Was it any different? Being with him like I had been lately was dangerous. If I was found out I could be a target for violence and revenge. If he found someone else my heart would break.

It was all very complicated.

As I continued to wonder and wander, I found a small table by the fence lined with the dead as they moaned and groaned. A few people were on guard, pacing the perimeter, keeping an eye out and a grip on their guns just in case. None of them seemed to care- or notice- when I decided to plant myself down at the table.

Sitting there, I looked to the dead, watching them as they shifted as much as they could, reaching out for the poor unfortunate people who worked at maintaining the fence. Seeing both the living and dead people there, it made me think of the cruller side of Negan.

He might make me feel good, and desired. He might touch me with soft and warm hands, with the intent to only cause intense pleasure. But that didn't correct all the bad he did.

Killing, maiming, hurting, kidnapping people. Taking over communities. Ordering others around. Declaring ownership of the land surrounding us in every direction, and anything or anyone who remained in said area. He was a demanding and ambitious character.

To think that he could turn on me at any second… it scared me. The chances were minimal, as long as I didn't do anything to provoke him… but there was still a chance, albeit a small one. No one was safe from his wrath and his punishing ways. His deadly ways.

It made me think of the look I'd seen on his face right before Simon had knocked on the door, and then the words he'd shared with me before he'd left. Maybe I'd already crossed the line? Maybe my punishment was already coming? Maybe I was already done for?

Shivering against the cool wind, I wrapped my arms around me and got to my feet. As much as my brain wanted to sit and stew in my thoughts and confusion, my body knew it had more important things to do. Hoping the driers were done by now, I started for the laundry again.

…

No one came to disturb me while I was working. I just stood there, folding all the clothes as they finished in the machines.

Having been standing and working for hours my arms were now like jelly, my legs no better. The thrum from Negan's touches had melted away. My confusion had muddled as my fuzzy and tired brain set itself into autopilot. All I wanted and needed at that moment was sleep. I needed to recharge.

The throb in my ankle had finally gone from uncomfortable to almost unbearable. I'd fought through it until the job was done, but by then I was too tired and my ankle was too sore. So, instead of getting the hell out of there I sat myself in a corner on some unwashed sheets, and let myself fall asleep. Instead of going to the solitude and security of my room where I could curl into my nice, comfortable and warm bed, I slept right there on the floors of the laundry.

It was already dark out, most people would be either having dinner, heading off to their rooms, or getting some rec time in before it gets too late and curfew falls. I wasn't sure if my choice to stay in the laundry was a good one or not, but I did know I didn't want to risk hurting my ankle again.

The crisp, cool air outside was trickling in through the thin metal sheeting walls. It pressed against my skin and reached deep into my bones. But I neither cared nor worried about the cold. My heavy eyes were too busy falling shut as I shifted on the sheets in order to find the most comfortable position in an otherwise awkward situation.

…

As I came back to consciousness I found it hard to open my heavy and weary eyes. But that's not all I found… I was no longer in the laundry mat. Instead, I was now moving. I was in the arms of someone hard and warm. It was a nice contrast to my ice-cold skin. Shivering in their hold, I buried myself against their heat, letting it seep into me.

Neither of us said a word. Part of me knew I should be worried. I didn't know who was carrying me. I didn't know where we were going. I didn't know what they intended to do with me. But the rest of me- _most_ of me- didn't care. I was too tired, cold and sore. I would worry about it all when trouble actually made itself known. _If_ trouble is what the person had in mind.

So, instead I just stayed there, unmoving, silent, content.

I enjoyed the feel of their body shifting with each step, the feel of their grip on me, the feel of their body warming mine. I enjoyed the sound of their heart beating against my ear, the sound of their boots meeting the ground in a steady pace. I enjoyed the smell of… of them. They smelt like leather, and man, and wood, and a little bit of scotch… and security.

Letting myself melt into the moment, I didn't fight my body as it gently drifted off to sleep once more.

…

When I woke for the second time I found myself on a soft and large bed. A fire burning across the room lit the familiar space with a warm glow. It didn't take a genius to figure out where I was... Negan's room.

"You hungry?"

Jumping at the sound of someone's voice, I looked over to the couch and found Negan sitting there nursing a drink as he flicked through the pages of a book, using the light from the fire and a dimmed lamp next to him to see the words.

It took a second or two to recover from my shock, and a second or two more to remember he'd asked a question. "Um… yeah. Yeah, I am… but it's probably late, and the kitchens closed, and everyone's asleep…"

Lifting his eyes from the book, he looked to me. Even with the lack of light I knew what expression was on his face. I could imagine the unamused and silent sigh sitting there. All my excuses meant nothing to someone who could get anything they wanted at any time.

"If you're hungry I'll get you something. Fuck everything else. You need food." He said matter of factly, a slightly bored tone to his words. "Now, are you fucking hungry?"

"Yes." The word slipped from my lips on its own accord.

Reaching over, Negan set the book and glass on the coffee table in front of him before he stood and moved to the exit.

I watched his every move, feeling my nerves bubbling under my skin as he exited the room. With the way he was acting I thought for sure I'd crossed a line. There was no way in hell he wasn't pissed at me. How many women out there rejected an offer like the one he'd given me? How many were even given the offer? To throw it back in his face like I did… I was an idiot.

Though don't get me wrong, I wasn't folding. I wasn't saying yes. As much as I knew it was foolish to do so, I couldn't give myself to him if that meant leaving myself vulnerable to a world of hurt later. Honestly, I'd rather deal with his wrath than deal with my own heartbreak.

A few minutes passed before Negan walked back into the room. Surprisingly, he carried a few granola bars and a tin of what I assumed was fruit salad. Closing the door behind him, he moved over to where he'd been seated before and set himself back down.

"Here." Placing the food on the coffee table, he gestured to it. "Eat."

Not needing to be told twice, I slid out from under his blankets and off the bed. The soft patter of my feet on the hard-wooden floors was barely noticed over the sound of the logs cracking in the fireplace. Taking a seat on the couch across from Negan, I reached for one of the bars and uttered a gentle thanks before digging into the food.

Once again, neither of us said a word. He went back to reading and drinking, while I nibbled at the food and watched the flames dance. It was both a frightening and peaceful moment. Like the flip of the coin, I wasn't sure which side of Negan I was about to encounter. Would it be the front faced anger everyone knew him for? Or the softer and passionate side that hid behind everything else?

After I'd finished the granola bar, he reached over and nudged the other one towards me. It was a silent order I wasn't going to ignore.

Grabbing the second- and last- bar, I began to nibble away again, only now instead of focusing on the fire I couldn't keep my eyes from flicking over to him every now and then, almost keeping in time with the flickers of the flames.

His attention seemed to be trained on the book in his hand, only ever straying in order to take a sip from his drink. With the warm glow of the fire lighting up the room, it showed a new side to Negan. He looked content and serene. He looked intelligent in a softer manner than I already knew him for. He looked like a man, sitting down in his living room by the fire, enjoying a good drink and book after a hard day's work. The image was somewhat ordinary. I liked it.

"Stop fucking staring and eat your fucking food." He spoke up, breaking the silence, the bored tone still lining his words.

Shifting my gaze away, I focused on the fire once more as I continued to eat, no longer nibbling.

The faster I ate the faster I could leave and go to my room… I hoped. As much as being around Negan was soothing, it was equally jarring. Especially now, with how he was acting, giving me no sign of how he was feeling… I definitely wanted to get out of there.

As soon as I swallowed the last of the granola bar I straightened the wrapper up neatly and placed it on the glass table before doing the same to the wrapper of the first bar. Without a word, moving gently and gingerly so as not to disturb him, I got to my feet and took one single step.

My ankle had throbbed on the way to the couch by Negan's orders had taken precedence over any pain. It had also blinded my thoughts to the realisation that I was no longer wearing my shoes or socks. But now that the prospect of leaving was so close I noticed it all.

A hiss of pain and slight groan of annoyance escaped my lips unwillingly as my eyes scanned the room, looking for my shoes.

"Sit the fuck down, Brandi." His eyes still stayed trained on the pages in front of him.

Despite my better judgement, this time I didn't listen to his order. "I really should get going. It's late, and I don't want to wake anyone on the way to my room."

A pause followed my words. It lasted less than a second but felt like a millennium. The whole world had passed and ended during that single moment. Everything we knew and were disappeared and faded in the time neither of us spoke.

The silence wasn't broken by a word though. No. It was broken by a single sound that had all the fine and thin hairs on my body stand as my skin rippled with tiny goosebumps.

Negan sighed.

It was one of annoyance and impatience, and part of me honestly felt it would be the last noise I ever heard.

Still not saying a word, he closed his book and placed it on the table once more. Getting to his feet he then came over to stand by my side. Then he stopped and waited.

I could feel his eyes. I could feel the intense and heavy stare of his eyes boring into me as I kept my own gaze focused on everything and anything other than him… at least I tried. Eventually I gave in, feeling my head slowly and fearful turn, tilting ever so slightly so I could only _just_ meet his gaze.

"You're in pain. You're tired. It's cold. And there's a fucking curfew." He noted, his tone holding none of the annoyance his sigh had held. Instead he sounded bored once more. "You're not going anywhere."

Still, being the idiot that I am- especially around him- I argued. "Seriously, Negan, I'm fine. It's fine. My room's not that far away, and-"

Groaning with a roll of his eyes I could only _just_ see in the barely lit room, he suddenly bent down and lifted me off the ground.

I jumped and squealed lightly, surprised by his actions. But I didn't resist. I didn't fit. I didn't argue anymore. There was no point, and both my mind and body had finally realised this.

With nothing else to do, I let my head rest against his chest as he carried me bridal style- and no, the irony was not lost on me. I didn't bother asking questions as he moved us across the room. I just let him take me over to his bed as the silence once again spread between us, the sound of the fire crackling and his heavy feet on the wooden floors the only things that could be heard.

Once he placed me back on the bed he stepped back and watched me with an expectant look in his eyes. Without having to be told I obliged and slid back under the blankets, pulling them over me as I shifted so I could lay down once more. When he was pleased with my actions he turned and headed back to his chair, still silent.

Lying there, tucked under his blankets that smelt like nothing other than him, the fire crackling and dancing in the back ground, I watched as Negan once again picked up his book and began to read. I stayed like that, watching him, enjoying the moment, pleased I could no longer feel the cool and crisp air against my now warm skin.

 **Bamby**


	5. Chapter 5: Cuddling by the Fire

**This is my second fic for flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash's** _ **"Fall into Negan" Writing Challenge**_ **. The prompt for this chapter is** _ **Cuddling by the Fire**_ **. You can find her blog on Tumblr :):)**

 _ **Summary**_ **: Things are… different. Tense. Awkward. Complicated. Uncomfortable. Foreign. Things are wrong. Brandi can feel it. Waking up in Negan's room, in his bed, finding herself alone under the warm blankets, she can tell things are wrong. With her refusal still hanging in the air, both Negan and Brandi struggle to find the right words… which leads to a more physical interaction instead.**

 **Warnings: Smut (fingering, female receiving oral, squirting, and unprotected vaginal sex).**

 **Bamby**

Rolling over, in that half-conscious state, where I was only aware of my surroundings and nothing else. My arm stretched across the surface of the soft cotton sheet covered bed I was curled in, like a cocoon of security and warmth… only to find a never-ending emptiness. Suddenly the island of pillows and blankets felt nothing like the comforting fortress it had seconds ago.

My eyes crept open, peeping a look in order to actually make sure my hand hadn't simply missed the sleeping form which should be lying next to me. Yet as my sight adjusted I felt my heart sink.

I was alone.

The fire had dimmed to small smoldering flames, having not been touched in a time. The air was cooler than it had been when sleep had taken me, stealing more warmth from the haven I had found in my dream. Wind whirled and whistled outside, pressing against the windows, warning of a coming storm.

Once again, I rolled over. Cautious and anxious. My gaze swept over every surface in the room, trying to avoid the one chair in the room I would inevitably look to. It's why I hadn't fallen back to sleep. It's why my heart was racing so hard it was sure to shatter into a million pieces any second now.

Everything was as it had been before. Everything other than the fire and air. Everything but the warmth I had felt as I'd drifted off.

Negan still sat on his chair. Still sipping on a drink. Still under the glow of his lamp. Still reading.

Hours must have passed. It must have been early morning. A new day. Yet, he hadn't slept a wink. He'd barely moved a muscle. Hadn't made a noise.

I'd assumed he would have come to join me eventually. I thought, after he'd finished reading, he would have crept under the covers, pulled me to his chest, wrapped his arms around me, and slept. Although… I guess that's something a husband would do to his wife…

Tears threatened to spill and trail down my cheeks. I quickly blinked them away, not wanting him to see me cry. That was a low I never wanted him to be witness to.

There was a conversation that had to be said. We needed to talk about the proposal. We needed to talk about me answer. We needed to talk about a lot of things. But no matter how hard I tried, I was lost for words. Nothing could fix the damage that had been made.

My body moved on its own then.

Pulling the sheets and blankets away I slipped my legs over the edge of the mattress so they hung above the cold, hardwood floor. Sucking in a breath, I ignored both the sting from my injured ankle and the cool floor as I made my way over to his seat as softly as I could manage.

He was aware of my movements. The way his concentration changed ever so slightly, his ears straining to listen to me as his eyes stayed on the pages he was no longer reading. But he made no other attempt at moving.

When I reached him, I gingerly took the book away from him. His eyes watched me as I then plucked the glass from his other hand before turning to place both objects on the coffee table behind me. Without a word, and without giving myself the chance to change my mind, I turned back and moved to slide my knees onto his chair until I was straddling him.

Negan brought his hand up to caress my cheek. His fingers delicately ran along my skin as he tucked a few strands of my hair behind my ear. One of my own hands rested on the chair, right by his shoulder. My other hand came to rest on his chest, fingers pressing against the shirt above his heart.

My eyes swept over every inch of him. I took in the dark jeans that hugged his lower form. The lines on his hand that sat on my thigh. The light grey shirt that was perfectly loose. The tattoos scattered on his arms. The shadow of hair on his face. The curve of his lips. The thick black and grey hair on top of his head. Then, lastly, I looked into the depths of his eyes which were now gazing into mine.

With no words shared, he brought my face closer to his as he leaned in himself until our lips pressed together.

Kissing Negan was never the same. If someone were to ask me how to describe it I would always be changing the story. Each was an experience only lived once. They were all unique, and always changing.

Yes, there was heat. There was passion. There was comfort, and security, and a spark… and it was completely perfect. But there was always more. There was always that one detail that was indescribable. That one thing I could never completely grasp.

At that moment my skin was vibrating lightly. Warming. Waking up. My heart was calming from its panic as it melted into the reassurance his lips were conveying without a single word. My mind was singing loud and clear in my mind, rejoicing at the connection being shared.

There was a moment where we stayed just like that. Our hands ghosting over each other, barely touching as our lips pressed together. The heat was there but the kiss was simple. Lips and nothing else.

When his tongue brushed against my lips I was gone.

My fingers curled, fisting his shirt. My body leaned forward, pressing against him as my other hand came over to grasp his hair. My hips rocked, searching for the hardness of his body. The heat inside me flared high and hot.

He responded to my touch. The hand that sat on my thigh moved to grasp my hip, holding me against him with a strength I could not and did not want to fight. His other hand gripped my own hair. He leaned forward, deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue past my lips once more, tangling it with my own in a dance they knew all too well by now.

Teeth clashing. Hands grasping. Noises spilled out, filling the empty void which had only been occupied by the light crackle of the dying fire, and the wisps of air whistling through the cracks of the windows.

Changing his grasp, Negan slid his hand down from my hair and brought it to my other hip. Holding me tightly, pressing me to him, he pushed himself off the chair and moved only a few steps before he lowered himself onto one knee and laid me down on the ground. Leaning over me, our mouths still frenziedly worked together, he began to pull and tug at my clothes with haste.

My own movements were just as impassioned and needy. Nails and fingers ripping and gripping every offending piece of garment covering his perfectly made body I so desperately wanted pressed against my bare flesh.

As his fingers curled around the hem of my jeans his eyes met mine, a smirk playing on the edges of his lips before he tore the pants from my legs in one, long, rough motion. Reaching for my underwear, the last piece of clothing covering my body, each hand grabbed the material and pulled swiftly, tearing it to pieces.

A gasp escaped my lips at the action, only for the air to be sucked back into my lungs as Negan then leaned forward, his breath fanning over my core.

Never had I been touched in this way before. No man or boy had ever pressed their lips to my most sensitive area. It both frightened and excited me. My back arched in both preparation for bliss, but also in retreat. My hands grasped at his head where it was still between my legs, my mind wanting to both pull him closer and push him away.

I had no control over the situation though. Negan was in charge. He was always in charge… but that made it so much better.

When I felt his fingers spread my lower lips I couldn't stop myself from jumping slightly. I shifted suddenly, moving so I was leaning on my elbows so I could watch him with wide eyes. I had no idea what expression was on my face, whether it was fear or wonder, but either way it didn't deter Negan from doing what he wanted.

His tongue ran one long line along the length of my core. Teasing me. Hinting at the pleasure which was bound to follow.

That one movement might have been small, but it packed a punch.

Still resting on my elbows, my head fell back as I moaned lowly. The feeling was like nothing I'd ever felt before. Intimate in a way the sexual experiences I'd had before weren't. It was personal. This wasn't about both of us, connecting, feeding each other's need and want. This was about Negan pleasing me.

There was no more waiting after that. No more teasing. Negan let his control slip as he leaned in and devoured me so deliciously I thought I wouldn't make it out alive.

His lips attached themselves around my clit as he sucked at the sensitive bud, making me wither and cry. His tongue dipped into my core, imitating what other parts of his body would later do. His teeth nipped and bit my inner thighs, lips and anywhere that would bring noises out of me.

Negan quickly figured out what I liked best. He focused his attention on alternating between sucking and nibbling on my clit, before he would then lap at it hungrily. Like a starved man who had been stranded in the desert, he drank at my core as if it were the first sip of water he'd had in days.

Back aching. Toes curling. Hands fisting. Eye rolling. Moaning. Groaning. On the edge of crying. I felt every nerve inside me sing and dance. But it was the bundle of nerves in my core that were the loudest. They vibrated as they tightened into a ball of pressure and anticipation.

When I thought I was going to explode right then and there Negan went and intensified it all by thrusting two fingers into me with now warning, before he curled them in a way that they hit a spot that tore a scream from my lips.

Literally convulsing against him, the orgasm more intense than I had ever experiences before, I tried to shoo his hand away as he continued to stroke that same spot inside me. But try as I might I didn't win the fight, and before I could even finish the first orgasm I spiraled into the next. Only this was even more intense than the previous.

The bundle of nerve inside me which had been released already had quickly tightened into another ball. In the urgency and eagerness of the situation when this new ball exploded inside me I felt my core physically explode as well.

Liquid squirted out of me and onto Negan, like a waterfall of pleasure and ecstasy being released from my core.

I screamed as tears pricked the edges of my eyes. The pleasure was so overwhelming I thought it would never end. I could feel it everywhere, from my head to my toes. It was incredible.

Negan only gave me a short moment to recover before his lips were suddenly pressing against mine. Tasting myself in the kiss I found I was surprisingly more turned on at the act. I'd never felt as sexy as I did at that instant.

While I'd been coming down from my orgasm Negan had shed himself of all his clothes, leaving him as bare as I was. Now, with nothing between us, he brought himself between my legs and brushed his member against my still sensitive core.

Jumping at the contact, I moaned, nodding my head, wanting him already and completely. Grinning against the kiss, Negan gave me what I wanted.

In one motion he pushed himself into me until our hips were pressed together. Our kiss broke apart as our eyes locked. My legs wrapped around his body, pulling him closer and deeper. He groaned as I rolled my hips against him, the friction feeding our desire for each other.

Slowly, he pulled out until he was only barely in me still. Then he thrust, hard and fast, hitting all the right places. We kept this rhythm. Slow and hard and deep. Building up the pressure. Feeling each other. Taking in the moment. Then, he pace quickened.

Gradually. Over time. Negan began to thrust faster. A little harder. Getting rougher.

He pulled back so he was kneeling, his hands clasping my thighs to pull me with him. Shifting my position, keeping me lying on the hardwood floor, he entered me at a new angle.

Eyes closed, my hands moved on their own accord, grasping at my breast. His grunts and my moans filled their air as he watched my hands and fingers pulled on my breasts and pluck at my nipples. His movements became more frantic and frenzied the more my hands played.

Lips came down to latch onto one of my nipples as large fingers wrapped around my thin wrist. The angle of Negan's thrusts had changed with his new position, but it only lasted a moment before he let go of my nipple and moved over to bite the underside of my breast which he then soothed with a kiss. Then he pulled back into again, keeping his fingers wrapped around my hand as he did.

I let him take control of my actions, let him drag my hand down the length of my body until he placed it at the place we were connected. He pressed the heel of my hand against my clit, knowing the sensitive bud couldn't handle any harsh or intense contact at that moment. But the pressure from my hand was enough.

Holding my hand there, Negan's thrusts continued, his pace now uneven. His control was slipping as he got closer and closer to his release. When he was right there, on the edge, his fingers which were still wrapped around my wrist gave a quick and sudden jerk, causing my hand to move against my clit.

We both climaxed at the same time, tumbling into the orgasms with jerky and uncontrolled thrusts against each other. Negan emptied himself deep inside me as his body twitched, his head fell back, and a long groan pulled itself from his lips. My core pulsed around him as my back arched, toes curled, and a broken scream tore from my own lips. Then we were spent.

Negan took the time to reach over and lazily throw another log onto the fire so it wouldn't die, before he dropped himself onto the floor beside me, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me closer. I snuggled into him, my back pressed to his chest and my legs tangled with his.

As we lay there, cuddling by the fire, no words were spoken. Neither of us broke the silence. We simply held each other and let our bodies get the sleep they needed.

 **Writing oral and squirting is very foreign for me... so please be nice…**

 **Bamby**


	6. Chapter 6: First Snow Fall

**This is my third fic for flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash's "** _ **Fall into Negan" Writing Challenge**_ **. The prompt for this one is _First Snow Fall_. You can find her blog on Tumblr :):)**

…

 _ **Summary**_ **: Negan and Brandi need to talk. What they're doing, what they are… decisions need to be made. Will he be willing to continue their relationship without being her husband? Will she be willing to give up the life she knows in order to become his wife? Or will their stubbornness lead to a third option?**

 _ **Warnings**_ **: Explicit language, slight smut, dirty talk, dry humping, and a little bit of angst.**

 **Bamby**

I shivered against the chilled air fanning over my naked body. Tugging on the sheet shrouding me, my eyes slowly fluttered open. I found myself looking across the room, towards the window, seeing nothing but clouds and the far stretching buildings that surrounded the Sanctuary.

That's one the best part about Negan's room. It's high enough that you don't have to see any of the chaos and death left from the ending of the world.

Stretching over to the bedside table, I grabbed my glasses and slipped them on before continuing to look out the window. Slowly, and carefully, I moved until I was sitting up so I could reach over to grab a blanket from the foot of the bed. Wrapping it around me, I then stood.

A throb in my ankle reminded me of my injury, but didn't deter me from moving. Once again, slowly and carefully, I began to walk across the room, trying to ignore the sting of my sore ankle and the cold floor boards.

Once in front of the window, I looked out across the buildings and up at the sky. The wind from last night had hinted at a coming storm, and by the looks of the sky now it appeared the storm wouldn't be too far away now.

Movement from behind alerted me to Negan. I listened as he got up from the bed and walked over without a word. I didn't turn to look as he neared me. I didn't break the silence as I waited.

Large, warm, comforting and protecting arms wrapped around me. He pulled me to his bare chest, his face coming down to nuzzle my neck as he breathed in the smell of me, groaning lightly.

Tilting my head, I absentmindedly gave him more access to my neck as my eyes closed without any really thought of the action. When it came to Negan there wasn't a lot of thinking that passed between us. It was all feeling. All instinct.

Negan made me feel things I'd never felt before, or at least things I hadn't felt in a long while. It wasn't just about sex, either. He made me feel like I wasn't the simple girl I believed I was. He made me feel like I was broken from my past. He made me feel like I was beautiful, wanted, needed. He made me feel good about myself.

He also made me feel safe. In all my life I had never felt as safe and secure and protected and comforted as I did with him. All the terrible things now and from before just fell away. I truly believed that whenever I was with Negan I was in safe hands.

Yes, I knew what he was capable of. I was aware of the monster he could be. The blood on his hands. The torture he inflicted. The mayhem he encouraged. Negan was not always a good man, but he was good for me.

"Marry me," he mumbled against me as his lips ghosted against my skin, right behind my ear.

My eyes fluttered open as I looked out the window again, seeing the cloudy sky. They weren't ominous clouds, more fluffy and white, maybe a little grey, but still light. There was nothing angry or dangerous, which was actually reassuring.

Turning slowly, staying in the cage of his arms, I looked up at him with eyes I hoped conveyed no emotions. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. I didn't want him thinking I was rejecting him, because I wasn't. I just wasn't sure what I wanted…

"Why?"

"Why?" he repeated my question, confused but also a little annoyed… yet slightly amused. "Are you serious?"

The answer was simple, "Yes."

He paused a moment, looking down at me as if contemplating whether or not he should bother explaining himself. I'd completely understand if he didn't, it's not like I warrant an explanation, which is why I was surprised when he offered one.

"Because unlike my wives, you're here for me. I'm not a fucking idiot, Brandi, I know my wives would rather not be with me, but they all have their reasons to stay. To save a family member, to save themselves, it doesn't matter. What matters is that whenever I go to bed with one of them there's always a third person with us. But with you, it's just us.

"Because unlike most people around here, you're not scared of me. You don't flinch when I come closer." He leaned in more to prove his point. "You don't tense under my touch." His fingers brushed my hair behind my shoulder, brushing my skin to prove yet another point. "You don't avoid my gaze." He lifted my chin so I met his eyes.

"I know you won't hurt me," I noted, voice soft and a little shaky due to the intense proximity between us.

His signature grin fell into place. "Exactly."

Looking up at him, I got lost in the deep dark depths of his eyes. They could hold a million different emotions, speak a thousand different words, show a hundred different sides to him… but the Negan in front of me now was only saved for moments where it was just us. Just the two of us.

"Marry me," he repeated.

Yet, still, I was apprehensive. The idea didn't sit right with me…

"If I marry you, I'm saying good bye to my life. I'm saying good bye to the person I've become." My eyes fell, unable to hold his gaze as I continued. "Do you know what it's taken for me to be the woman who stands in front of you? I've been broken down time and time again, and I've pulled myself up over and over. If I say yes to you, it'll be like I'm disregarding everything I've ever been through. It'll be like I'm giving up myself to be someone else's.

"And then, what if you don't like the new me? What if the novelty of us gets boring? What happens when you find someone new? Someone better? What happens when you figure out I'm not as interesting as you think? What happens when you realize you don't want me anymore?"

I was handing him all my fears and thoughts on a silver platter. Everything I was saying was exactly what I was feeling.

Throughout my life I'd had to accept the fact that I wasn't wanted, or needed. Rejection was my closest friend. But if he were to come to terms with the realisation that I was nothing like he thought I was, that he could do better… I wasn't sure I could survive a blow like that.

Clearing his throat, he pulled away from me slightly. "Why don't we talk about this later? I've got some work I have to do, and you're probably hungry. I'll get some food brought up here. You're welcome to use my shower." He gestured behind him to one of the doors on the other side of the room. "Freshen up, then make yourself at home. I don't want you working on that ankle, so just stay here today. Okay?"

All I could manage was a simple nod.

I was too surprised by the gentle yet also flat tone to his voice. It was as if he was trying to hide whatever emotions he may be feeling, but at the same time he didn't want to hurt or upset me. I was also surprised by how easily he'd changed the subject without a fight. I'd been so sure my words would have started something a little more explosive.

"I'll be back later," he assured me as he moved to grab some clothes before heading into his bathroom to shower and get dressed himself.

Turning back to the window, watching the sky, I got so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even hear him leave.

…

After having a shower I'd thrown one of Negan's shirts and a pair of his sweats on. The shirt was practically a dress, drowning me in material and the smell of him, and I ended up using my hair tie to put a knot in the pants to keep them from falling from my waist. But I was still comfy. Surrounded by the soft comfort and scent of Negan eased my mind and racing heart.

Sitting on his bed now, picking at the sandwich that had been sent up for lunch, I couldn't stop thinking about the options that sat in front of me. As far as I could see, there were three… all with their own person cons.

One, we continue what we're doing. No marriage, just us. But I had a feeling that wouldn't work for much longer… not with how stubborn Negan was.

Two, we get married. I give in and become his wife. But I still didn't feel good about that. It just didn't sit right in my gut. I knew something would go wrong if I chose to agree to that path.

Three… we end it all. We cease whatever we're doing, go back to how things were before. He pretends he doesn't know me, and I continue to insanely crush on him from afar.

Of course, I could see the positives as well. If we continued to do what we're doing now, that in itself is a positive. If I marry him, we're still together, still sharing the moment's I've been lucky enough to share with him so far. If was break up… well, better now rather than later… it'll be less messy that way.

The bedroom door opened then. I looked up and watched as Negan strode in, Lucille resting on his shoulder as he moved to the couches and coffee table. He set Lucille down on one of the single chairs before pulling his leather jacket off and draping it over the back of it. Then, with a breath, he turned to me.

Our eyes locked in the silence that had stretched throughout the room since the door had closed behind him earlier on today. We just stayed there, unmoving, eyes staring into each other's as we both fought to stay silent, but also needed to speak.

He broke first.

"What do I need to do to prove to you that you're different from the others?" he asked, taking a single step closer. "How can I show you this is more than a fling?" He took another step. "Because this," he gestured between us, "isn't just a game." Another step. "I care about you… more than I fucking should." He took yet another step. "There is no fucking way I will forget, replace or get bored of you." He took the last step.

Now he stood by the bed, looking down at me with eyes ablaze with a fire I couldn't quite read. Was he angry? Or was this the fire of the passion I'd seen in him before? Had I upset him? Or had the thought of this ending upset him? There were a million possibilities that could explain the intense look in his eyes, but in that moment, I couldn't figure out which was right.

"You don't know how you're going to feel in the future," I noted, surprised by how strong I sounded. I should have been more careful, but I needed to be heard, and I needed to be understood. "You can't tell me, right here and now, that someone else won't catch your eye. You can't tell me that you'll tire of this." I gestured between us. "And you certainly can't tell me you won't move on."

"I've fucking tried!" he exclaimed suddenly, making me jump. "Goddamn it, from the second I saw you, years ago, I was drawn to you. That fucking smile." His hand came up to cup my cheek as his eyes locked onto my lips. "You're so fucking beautiful. But you were quiet and shy and innocent, and there was no fucking way I was going to destroy all of that.

"But when I found you in here, on my birthday, I couldn't stop myself. I had to taste you." His fingers gripped my face then as the intense look in his eyes darkened. "After that I tried to forget you. I tried to move on. You really think I was too busy for a whole week that I couldn't come and see you? I run this place. If I want time off, I will have some fucking time off. No, I stayed away from you on purpose.

"But it didn't work. I couldn't get you out of my mind. The little teaser hadn't been enough. I needed more. I thought, if I had you just once, I could get you out of my system and we could move on. But you were so fucking perfect, fo fucking gorgeous, such a good girl," he groaned as he remembered our first time together. "I knew after that I was never letting you go."

Suddenly his lips were pressed against mine in a deep and heater kiss. The fire I'd seen in his eyes could be felt through the push and pull of our mouths, the way our tongues sild against each other in a dance they'd perfected, in the hurried and frenzied clash of teeth.

Moaning into Negan, I was only vaguely aware of the sound of something slashing, before I was being pushed down into the mattress as his large and heavy body loomed over mine. He didn't press against me like I wanted him to, like he wanted to. He wasn't willing to give into that just yet. There was more that needed to be said.

Pulling his lips from mine, his fingers pushed my head to the side so he could trail a mixture of bites and nibbles across my jaw bone and all the way to my ear. There he sucked on the skin behind my lobe, leaving a mark there.

"The way your body gives into mine, like it was made for it. Like it would do anything to get the pleasure it needs." I could feel his grin as his lips brushed against my skin. "I can make you scream like no other man could. Make you feel things you've never felt before. Make you gush and thrash around like a mad woman."

My eyes rolled back, my body thrusting against nothing. His words were stirring up a heat inside me that desperately needed to cling onto something. If he wasn't going to give me what I wanted soon, I was afraid I might combust.

His breath fanned over me. "Tell me you don't want this every Goddamn day and night. Tell me you don't want to wake up with me between your thighs. Tell me you don't want me to work you so hard and good every night, giving you the best sleep of your life. Tell me you don't want my mouth on you, warm and wet. I'll give you everything you'll ever want. Everything you'll ever need."

Just his voice, just his words, just the warmth of his body and breath… it was all too much.

I moaned as his hand came down to finally touch me, sliding underneath the shirt I wore, ghosting over my skin ever so slightly. He brought his body down to me then, pressing himself against me right where I wanted him, right between my open thighs, pushing his hard cock against my aching and empty core.

Giving a little thrust, we both groaned at the friction. I cursed our clothes, wanting nothing more than to feel his hot flesh against mine. I wanted to feel the push and pull of us coming together… before we'd inevitably _come_ together.

"Negan."

His teeth tugged on my ear lobe, his hips thrusting once more, harder this time. "Say yes. Say yes and I'll give you everything. Say yes and you can have everything you fucking want," he groaned as my hips involuntarily circled against him. " _Please_."

That. That right there. Hearing him beg. Hearing the need and desperation in his voice that matched the scream within me. Hearing the want. Hearing the fear of rejection. Hearing the horse scratch of his voice as he held back giving us what we both wanted.

It was in that moment I knew I couldn't say no. It was in that moment I realised it was too late for me as well. After the first taste I had of him, there was no turning back.

"Yes," I moaned, low and soft.

Our clothes were torn away, hastily and wildly. Tearing material, ripping it all away until it was just the two of us, just us and our bodies.

When he slid into me, all the way, slow in that delicious way that makes my toes curl, back arch and eyes closed, my head rolled to the side, my fingers grasping at the sheets below me.

My eyes slowly fluttered open once more. I found myself looking across the room, towards the window, seeing nothing but clouds and the far stretching buildings that surrounded the Sanctuary… and the first snow of the winter falling over the concrete forest.

As I drowned in the warmth of Negan, I was unaware of the icy tug pulling on my gut, warning me that this winter was going to be a long and cold one…

 **Bamby**


	7. Chapter 7: Glitter

**This is my first submission for flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash's '** _ **Ash's Birthday Negan Challenge'**_ **(you can find her blog on Tumblr). I've waited to post it today, because it's my birthday, and the next one will be posted on Ash's birthday (which is the 13** **th of April** **) :):)**

 **The prompt I picked for this one is Glitter!**

…

 _ **Summary**_ **: After accepting Negan's proposal, Brandi is now tasked with figuring out how to deal with her new life and all the changes and challenges that will comes with it.**

 _ **Warnings**_ **: Explicit language, and a little bit of angst.**

 **Bamby**

After agreeing to marry Negan I was expecting things to change… but I hadn't expected it to be like this.

I was currently standing in the middle of a lounge area, surrounded by nearly a dozen women. All morning I'd been bombarded with information and little tips. Workers and wives were busy dressing, preparing, and filling me with all the knowledge they knew.

Yesterday was when Negan had made the announcement to the whole of the Sanctuary. It was then that he informed everyone that he had a new wife. It was then that he confirmed my new status. It was then that he declared I would no longer be working. It was then that my life changed completely.

As much as I felt for Negan, and understood what being his wife would mean, I had requested not to be present during his speech. Most of the community knew who I was, they knew me as the kind quiet girl who did the laundry. No one ever had a problem with me. But I was sure my new life would change people's view and opinion of me. I didn't want to be there to see the moment people no longer liked me…

Yes. I was having reservations.

No. It had nothing to do with Negan.

He was great. Since agreeing to be with him three days ago, he'd been nothing but supportive, grateful and understanding. Every day and night, he'd been there for me. Walking me to my room after dinner, walking me to work in the morning. He was always making sure I felt comfortable and was sure with my decision.

I was surprised when he suggested we not sleep together until everything was set in place and I was settled in. After the last time we were together I kind of thought things would blow up like crazy after that… but other than a few kisses, things had been pretty innocent.

Another thing that surprised me was how friendly his wives were being. Part of me had been in denial, I thought for sure they'd resent me, but yet here they were, being so helpful. It was as if they were… pleased? Relieved? Grateful?

Despite how nice they were being, the wives were just one of the reasons I was having reservations. Seeing them so glad I was around made me think this thing with Negan, this honeymoon stage, was going to end and leave me as miserable as they were.

Then there was everyone else. Everyone out of my marriage and the surrounding women. The workers and Saviours. My friends and family. My image never really meant much to me until the moment my image was tied to my safety.

What if someone hates my decision so much, and hates Negan even more… what if they try to hurt him by hurting me?

Then there was the pressure of being something I wasn't sure I could be. How long was it going to take before I was no longer interesting to him? How long was it going to take before I tired of sharing him?

Negan assured me I would never be replaced… but I just couldn't believe it.

Right now, I was standing in a room with about twelve other women and six of them were already married to Negan. That meant, at some point, each and every one of them got boring. If I were to go on Negan's history and the facts, my time would eventually come to an end.

"Here, sweetie. Wear this."

A dress was suddenly hanging in my face.

I couldn't remember the name of the woman handing it to me, all I knew was that she regularly tended to the demands and needs of the wives. There was a team of women who cleaned, cooked and cared for them… for us.

Shoving my train of thought over to the side, I took in the dress before me.

Honestly, it was beautiful. Black, al glitter and sparkles, short, caped sleeves, and a cut-out at the back. Modest, sweet, but subtle sexy all at the same time. There was nothing wrong with it… yet there was.

It just wasn't me.

Just as suddenly as the dress appeared it was gone. Then I was grabbed and pulled down to a sit on a chair close by before hands grabbed and worked on everything that was me.

Women were brushing my hair, pulling and teasing it. I had hands at my face, covering me in makeup. Others were close by, going through more clothes, arranging my new wardrobe.

"Now, remember, image is everything," one woman said for the millionth time that day.

"Always smile in Negan's presence."

"Stay out of the workers' area."

"Speak when you're spoken to."

"Don't cheat on Negan."

"Try not to talk to any man, just to be safe."

"Don't be afraid to ask for anything."

"But don't get too greedy."

"There's no need to get jealous if Negan pays the other wives attention."

"He will go back to you eventually."

"Be grateful when he does come to you."

"Definitely don't be greedy in the bedroom."

"Always try to look good for him."

"Don't try. Just do."

"Oh, and no going in Negan's room."

"No going in Negan's room," they all repeated in unison.

I sat there, taking it all in, finding my already confused and dazed mind getting dizzier and dizzier with each passing second. It was all just so much to take in, so much to remember, so much to do.

The longer I was surrounded by these women, the more I doubted my ability to actually go through with it all.

Tonight, was supposed to be the night. Tonight, was supposed to be the first night Negan and I would officially be married. It was supposed to be the first night we would be together since that night I decided to sign the life I knew away…

…

I stood in my new room, taking it all in as I waited for someone else to fetch me, or for my new husband to come find me.

The room was… nice?

Really, it was. It was lovely, luxurious, fancy, girly, amazing, beautiful. Dim lighting, a large four poster bed, a couch, cream walls, dark floor boards, a fluffy white rug, dozens of cushions, candles, an antique dresser, a matching vanity. Everything was soft and delicate and feminine… and not me.

After spending all day being bombarded with facts, and getting made-over like a doll, I was tired. I was mentally, emotionally and physically drained.

Sure, I looked nice. The dress hugged my curves perfectly. My hair was curled and pulled back out of my face with half a dozen pins. My face was caked with makeup and glitter. Even the black glitter heels I'd been given to wear were amazing.

But it just wasn't me.

The first day being married to Negan and I was already regretting it. I already felt like I was losing myself. If I lost myself, would he even be interested? If I lost myself how much of me would he still like? How much of me would he still want? How much of my would he still be attracted to?

There was so much doubt going on in my mind I was getting dizzier and dizzier. I was feeling sick. I was literally feeling sick.

I hadn't felt this kind of pressure in years. When the world ended everything actually got better for me. I didn't have to deal with anymore of the crap I'd been dealing with my whole life. Now, none of this compared to that crap, but it was still messing with me.

The last thing I wanted was to ruin what I had with Negan, but if things didn't get better, if he didn't help clear the crap out and reassure me that I'd made the right decision, I was sure I wouldn't last longer than a month.

…

For a few hours, I'd paced and waited in my room. I wallowed, my mind wondering and wandering. But when no one came, when I was left alone for too long, I decided to venture out. I needed a change of scenery. I needed to get out of my room.

I'd been told to wait. I'd been told someone would come by to check on me. I'd been told some food would be delivered to my room. I'd been told to take the time to get settled in. I'd been told Negan would come by when he had the time.

No one ever came, my patience ran out, my mind was going crazy, so I took matters into my own hands.

My intention hadn't been to go to Negan's room. Honestly. All I'd wanted was to take a walk. I just wanted to stretch my legs and lay my eyes on something that wasn't covered in fluff or glitter. Yet, being so distracted as I walked about, I eventually found myself looking up at the door that led to Negan's bedroom.

Many questions ran through my head in the moment I realised where I was. I questioned whether or not I should know. Whether or not I should go in. Whether or not I should just turn around and go back to my room. But as I stood there, thinking it over, measuring the pros and cons, five words kept repeating in my head.

 _No going in Negan's room._

When I pushed everything aside and focused on that, I was able to make my mind up and build up enough courage to move forward. Why? Because hearing those women say those words with such certainty made me think they'd never stepped foot passed this door. Or, if they had, whatever they experienced in the room was nothing like I had experienced. That there was enough to make me think I really was different to the others.

Taking a deep breath, I lifted my hand and tapped on the wooden door with three hard knocks.

"Come in."

Without allowing myself a moment to chicken out, I did as the voice said, reached for the handle, turned it, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Keeping my back to him, I closed the door behind me, giving us some privacy while also giving myself one more second or so to collect my thoughts and control my emotions, before I turned to face him finally.

He was sitting on the single seater couch he'd been sitting on the other night. In fact, other than the fact it was day time, the picture before me was a lot like the one from the other night. Negan sitting there, nursing a drink while also doing some work.

Seeing him so relaxed, seeing him like this, I liked it. It eased my worried just a bit. It reminded me of a nicer time when things weren't so complicated. It gave me hope that after all this chaos there might be some normalcy…

I didn't speak. I found myself unable to find any words. The courage I'd mustered up on the other side of the door was well and truly gone. The instant I laid eyes on Negan, the worry disappeared. Instead, it was replaced with a new haze… a haze only he brought on… a haze I didn't hate.

Luckily, Negan was never really the silent type. He finished up whatever he was working on before lowering the pages and lifting his eyes.

When his gaze fell on me, he was taken aback. His eyes racked up my form, his lips curving up into a grin, his teeth pulling his bottom lip into their grip. I could practically hear his thoughts. Once his eyes locked onto mine, he uttered one word in a single breath.

"Fuck."

Suddenly, I was nervous. I looked to the ground and fiddled with my fingers as a blush crept onto my cheeks. Still, no words came.

His grin grew. "Speechless, sweetheart?" he leaned forward in his chair, eyes roaming over my body again. "So was I for a second. You look so fucking hot right now. If I'd known this is what'd been waiting for me, I would have left work for later." His tongue ran over his lips, his eyes darkening. "Speaking of your room… what made you leave it? Needed to come see me?"

At first, I thought I should just lie and say yes. Feed his already _huge_ ego. But then I remembered that there really was a reason I left my room, and if I didn't say anything then nothing would get fixed. I came here for a reason, it was time to speak up.

"It's all a little overwhelming, actually." My voice was small, unsure, nervous. I really didn't want to upset him. But I needed to be heard. "Don't get me wrong, I love the room, and the clothes and the hair and the…" I gestured to my face and all the makeup, "but it's a bit much. I'm just not used to it. And… I'm worried."

"Worried?" he repeated, curious and a little concerned.

I quickly nodded, going on. "It's not about you. And it's not about anyone else. At least, not entirely. I mean, it's not their fault. There's nothing you can do, or they can do. It's all about me. And if I wasn't so worried I'd just ignore it and move on, but I don't want it to come between us, and I don't want to ruin anything, and I'm worried if I don't say something you'll realise something is wrong, and the it'll be too late, and I really would have ruined-"

"Bailey," he cut me off, his smile still in place- only now it was smaller and sweeter. "You're rambling."

My head fell once more as a sigh escaped my lips. "Sorry."

Chuckling, he pushed himself up to his feet. "Sweetheart, don't apologise. I think it's cute you're so worried you're getting all tongue tied." He walked towards me. "But I can't help if you don't tell me what's actually wrong."

I waited until he stood in front of me, both of us looking at each other's eyes, that line of respect in place, before I spoke up.

"I don't want to marry you and then become someone else. All these clothes. The makeup. The room. All the information. It's a lot to take in, and it's making me feel like in order for this to work, I have to be someone else. It's making me feel like what we had before was you having a little fun, and now everything had to be managed and controlled like the rest of our lives."

Still smiling, he shook his head at me lightly. "First of all, whatever you've been told by the other women… forget it. They don't know what we've done. You're different. You're the first woman I've brought in here. You're the first woman I've spent the entire night with. You're the first woman I didn't give up on after she said no. So their rules and your rules? Entirely different."

Gotta admit… that made me feel a little better.

"Secondly, if you don't want the dresses, the makeup, or even the room, you don't have to have all that. I want you to be comfortable. But, if I had it my way, you won't be in those clothes or in that room much anyway." His grin turned suggestive once more.

My blush returned as I chuckled a little.

"And lastly, there's nothing you could do that will make me want you less. I know who you are. I chose you because of who you are, not how you look or what you can give me. I like _you_ Brandi. I like this thing between us. Just because you're my wife now, doesn't mean any of that has changed."

"Really?"

"Really." He nodded, his smile slipping ever so slightly. "I thought I'd already made that clear. What do I have to do to prove it to you?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I just… I need to know this is different. _We're_ different."

Looking down into my eyes, contemplating my words, I could see his mind ticking and thinking. I wasn't entirely sure what was going on up there, but the longer he stayed silent, the more his smile faded and the harder his eyes grew.

"You wanna know this is different?"

I gave a sharp and short nod. "Yes."

Reaching forward, he cupped my face and brought my face to his. Before I could register what was really happening, his lips were pressed against mine in a kiss so deep I felt it settle in my chest. My heart fluttered, my stomach flipped, my head spun and my core began to tingle in anticipation for more of his touch.

Then, he pulled away. One hand continued to cup my face, his thumb stroking my cheek, but the rest of him pulled back.

"Tonight, I'm running you a bath. We're going to have a drink, sit in the tub and talk. Or not, maybe we'll just sit. Whatever you want."

I raised an unsure brow at him. "You, in a bath?"

"Yes." He nodded as if that was obvious. "There's no fucking way I'm leaving you alone to clean all that glitter crap off your face. I'm gonna be there to help you get that shit off. Then, you're gonna get dressed in one of my shirts, I'm gonna get in some pants, and then we're gonna go to bed. No sex. Just sleep."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

I was understandably sceptical. I thought for sure he'd try something while we were naked in the bath, or maybe once we were under the covers. But, for the rest of the night, he made no move. Other than a few kisses, a nice foot rub, and some cuddling in bed, nothing happened… and as I fell asleep that night I finally believed this would work.

 **Bamby**


	8. Chapter 8: Walkie Talkie

**This is my second submission for flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash's '** _ **Ash's Birthday Negan Challenge'**_ **(you can find her blog on Tumblr). The prompt I picked for this one is** _ **Walkie Talkie**_ **:):)**

…

 _ **Summary**_ **: Negan's gone. Only for a few days, but that doesn't matter, it still sucks. But just because Negan's away doesn't mean Brandi can't play.**

 _ **Warnings**_ **: Angst. Talk of sleeping pill usage. Smut. 'Phone' sex. Masturbation. Talk of squirting. Slight praise kink. Uncomfortable!Brandi. Slight dom/sub stuff. Dirty talk. Explicit language.**

 **Bamby**

"How long?" I asked as my head lay on Negan's bare chest, the two of us covered in nothing but the thin sheet of his bed.

This is how it had been for two weeks. Him and me. Every night I either went to his room to be with him, or he'd go to my room to be with me. There hadn't been a single night where I was left to sleep by myself since my reservations had faded.

When the two of us had spent that night in the tub a couple of weeks ago I knew things had changed. I knew they were different. I knew we weren't going to be like his other relationships. I knew I wasn't like the other wives. What we had was unique, meaningful, and real.

So when he told me he'd been leaving the Sanctuary for a while, of course I was apprehensive.

Running his hand up and down my arm, fingers just brushing the skin, he answered for the millionth time, not a hint of impatience in his tone, "Three or four days. Five at the worst."

Five possible night. Five possible nights where Negan would be gone. Five possible nights where I was going to have to sleep alone. Five possible nights without him.

"I would ask to go with you… but I know the answer."

Negan sighed as he rolled over until he was lying down, facing me, is hand now resting on my hip- the sheet between us. "I don't want to leave you either, but I'd rather deal with a cold bed for five days, rather than dealing with you getting hurt or killed."

"I know, and I get it," I assured him. "But I just… I don't like the idea of you being away and in danger. I don't like that I won't know if anything happens until someone tells me, or until you _don't_ come back."

"I'm coming back."

"You don't know that."

His confidence only grew as he repeated himself, "I'm coming back."

…

Pacing Negan's office, alternating between twiddling my thumbs and tugging on the hem of his shirt- which I'd decided to borrow forever- I waited. He'd sent one of the guards to my room this morning, with a tray of food for breakfast and a note explaining my he wasn't there himself.

Apparently, getting ready for a long trip took more time than I thought it would. I also thought Negan would leave it to everyone else to figure out. but then again, I wouldn't trust anyone else with my life… unless it was Negan. I trusted Negan.

In the note he'd also told me to come to his office that afternoon, before he was due to leave. Technically I knew he wasn't going to be around for a while, but I'd come early in an attempt to cool my nerves. Instead I just seemed to have worked myself into a tighter bundle of anxieties.

By the time he did show up, strolling in with less enthusiasm than usual, I was practically fretting with worry.

"Negan," I let out a breath I'd been holding as I hurried over to wrap my arms around him.

He chuckled lightly, his arms coming around to embrace me as well. "Remind me to let you ransack my wardrobe more often, sweetheart. Seein' you in my clothes is making me want to do things we just don't have time for."

Looking up at him, chin resting on the leather of his jacket, I tried to give him my best puppy eyes. "You could not go."

Some might think I sound needy. Some might think I'd gotten a little too clingy. Truth was, I hated the idea of him being gone, out in the world where there were millions of dangers. I also hated the idea of having to fend off maids and wives all by myself…

After I became a wife it was pretty clear Negan was only keep the others around for pretences. As far as I knew he hadn't touched a single one of them. Maybe a kiss here and there, but nothing more than whatever was necessary to show off his dominance. Other than that, he had been saving himself for me, for our nights alone

We weren't overly publicly affectionate. Then again, we didn't actually see each other a lot during the day. I was up in the wives' wings while he was working all over the Sanctuary. Whenever we were together it was mainly for a community meeting, or the spare few moments where we'd gone for dinner down in the cafeteria, or the rarer moments where he'd caught me walking about- away from the designated area he wanted me to stay in because he felt that would be safer.

The affection we showed was small and simple. A brush of a hand. A peck on the lips. A smirk across the room. You'd think Negan would be all over the place, showing me off, practically claiming his new wife everywhere and anywhere, but he actually preferred to savour it all for himself, which was sweet… and a major turn-on.

"You know I have to," he sighed, pulling back before starting towards his desk.

"Okay, yeah, sure, I get it. But that doesn't mean I have to like it," I argued, trying not to pout but failing miserably.

"I don't like it either," he noted, moving to reach for the drawer in his desk. "Being away from you is gonna kill me… which is why I got you these."

Two walkie talkies were placed on the table.

Both were black and a little worn. They were chunky, kinda reminded me of those old mobile phones in the eighties. I mean, yeah, walkie talkies have been around for ages and they've always been pretty big, but there were smaller ones, and these looked like they might only _just_ hit in my hands.

Each did have something different about them though. They had a strip of tape wrapped around the top. One was red, the other green.

"Walkie talkies?" I asked, confused.

Negan just gave a sharp and short nod. "For you. This one," he lifted the green one," is so you can contact the crew. If anything goes wrong here, you get worried about us, or you can't get a hold of me, you use this one. Green for go. Green is safe. Green is for everyone," he explained.

"And the red?" I gestured to the other device left on the table.

His signature grin pulled itself into place as he swapped the green walkie for the red. "Red is for me, sweetheart. You need me, you get a little lonely, you use this one. Don't care what time it is. Don't care if you had a nightmare, or if Frankie is pissing you off. You call me whenever you want, got it?"

Something bubbled inside me. "Whenever?"

"When-fucking-ever you want."

That was reassuring.

…

Saying goodbye to Negan was not something I hoped to make a habit of. Despite the relationship still only just getting off it's feet, and the fact I'd been full of reservations and concerns before, I'd grown quite close to him. Two weeks of sweet kisses, melting words and intense passions had spoiled me.

The first night he was gone was bad.

Mostly I just tossed and turned, finding it hard to get comfortable without a wall of warmth and muscle beside me. Eventually I gave up and opted to watch movies on the television in my room, hoping I'd crash. Sleep didn't come until the sun was already up.

The next day was worse. With my worrying taking up my mind I found myself stressing too much to do anything other than zone out and think of all the horrible things that could be happening out there.

That night wasn't much better.

My worrying had tired me out some, but my sleep had been filled with nightmares of every way Negan could possibly die.

A couple more days passed and not much changed. The other wives tried to distract me, noticing my mood, but it didn't work completely. Small things reminded me of Negan, which brought me back to my worrying. It was a circle I could not break.

By the fourth night I was ripping my hair out. A lack of sleep, a lack of his touch, a lack of everything… it was finally getting to me, and I'd had enough.

Picking up the red walkie I took a deep breath before pressing the button on the side so I could reach the other walkie which was in Negan's possession.

"You up?"

There was a pause before I got a response. " _You should be sleepin', sweetheart. It's practically mornin',_ " Negan's voice called back.

I was instant calmer, but only just a little. "I can't sleep."

" _Why not?_ "

"Because it's hard to sleep without you here. The bed feels too cold and long. _I'm_ cold. You keep me warm."

He sighed. " _Brandi, baby, it's just tonight and then I'll be back. Try taking a sleeping pill or something. You think that'll work?_ "

"I did that last night. Got to sleep, but didn't exactly have the greatest dreams," I mumbled.

" _Nightmares?_ "

"Mm-hmm."

" _Fuck_."

That's one of the things I liked about Negan. The fact that he wanted to protect me from everything. The fact that he hated I had nightmares because there was very little he could do to protect me from them. The fact that this distance was killing him almost just as much as it was killing me.

" _How can I help you get some sleep, sweetheart?_ "

"Talk to me," I told him, rolling over onto my back. "I like hearing the sound of your voice."

" _Don't get all sappy on me, sweetheart_." His grin smothered his voice. He was lapping my sappiness up like an eager puppy. It just boosted his ego… which did not need the encouragement.

Still, I couldn't help myself. "No, seriously. It's soothing. Calms me. Let's me know you're okay."

" _You been worried about me?_ "

"Do I have to dignify that with an answer?"

His chuckle came through the walkie. No words, just his chuckle.

"Fine, yes." I rolled my eyes. "You're my husband, of course I've been worrying."

" _Say that again._ "

Slightly confused, I did as I was told. "Of course I've been worrying?"

" _No. The part before that._ "

"You're my husband?"

He groaned, long, low and deep. " _Never gonna get tired of hearing you say that. Does things to me, sweetheart. Knowing you're mine. Knowing you miss me so much._ " Another groan followed. " _Where are you?_ "

Pausing, I looked around the room before answering, "In bed."

" _Which bed?_ "

"Yours."

"Ours," he corrected. " _What's mine is yours, baby. You can have fucking everything. Whatever you need._ "

"Need you home," I told him simply.

" _Need me with you? Want me in that bed with you? Touching you?_ " His third groan didn't get unnoticed… or the sound of his heavy breaths.

I sat upright suddenly, eyes wide. "Negan… are you… are you getting yourself off?"

Another groan. " _Thinking about it. Button on my pants is about to pop you got me so hard, sweetheart._ "

"I did nothing!" I exclaimed defensively.

But that didn't seem to matter to him. " _Don't need to. Just hearing your voice gets me there._ "

My cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of pink. "You want… you want me to go? So you can finish yourself off? Or maybe calm down?"

" _Fuck no_ ," he grunted as if that was the worst idea ever. " _Want you to stay on with me. Want you to tell me what you're doing._ "

"I'm lying in bed… wondering what the hell I _should_ be doing," I admitted, feeling very uncomfortable.

" _You should be taking your clothes off, if you're wearing them. Then I want you to touch yourself. Get to that edge. Need you to catch up so we can do this together._ "

"Are you serious?"

" _Fuck. Yes._ " To prove his point the sound of his pants being undone followed his words.

I was quick to do as he said, shredding his shirt off myself before quickly sliding my panties down my legs and kicking them off the side of the bed. The whole time I listened to him panting, patiently waiting, knowing I was doing exactly what he wanted.

Hesitantly, I grabbed the walkie again, pressing the button with a nervous finger. "Now what?"

" _You touching yourself, baby?_ " He sounded like he needed me to say yes. That he needed me to do it.

Still unsure, feeling really weird about all of this, I slowly crept my hand down to touch myself… and gasped at how soaked I was. Seemed Negan's voice had done things to my body with me even realising it…

Gently, carefully, I started to run my fingers along my lips, waking the nerves, getting myself ready for the next step. It was a process I'd gone through a million times, but there was added pressure this time… never had anyone listened or even watched me do this to myself, so I got the feeling that might affect the outcome.

" _What're you doing, sweetheart?"_ his voice called through. " _Tell me_."

Taking a deep breath, I decided to give it a go. "I'm touching myself. Teasing. Just light brushes. Gotta get myself ready. Too nervous right now."

" _You nervous? Why?_ "

"Never done anything like this before," I admitted.

" _You've never had phone sex?_ "

"No…"

There was a pause before he let out a long groan that fell right between my legs. " _You have no idea how that makes me feel. Knowing I'm the only man to do these things with you. Only man who ever made you scream. You remember that day? Remember the drier?_ "

Memories came flooding back to me, and as if it was a reflex, two fingers slid into my core before sliding right back out as a groan of my own slipped from my lips.

" _What about that night by the fire? God, can't look at that fucking fireplace without getting hard these days. Remembering when I had you squirting all over me. Fuck, it was so hot. Remember you squirming. Wish I was there right now so we could do it again. I'd never let you leave me room if you weren't so fucking stubborn. Turns me on when you disobey me though._ "

"Oh, God," I breathed, fingers dipping in again.

" _Remember the way you tasted… I'd live off nothing but you if I could. Hell, I might anyone. Would be one Hell of a way to die._ " He was panting hard and heavy now, the sound of his hand moving against himself filling my ears.

"Negan," I called his name as my fingers moved up to rub at my clit. "God, wish you were here. Miss you. Your touch. Your smell. The way you make me feel."

" _How do I make you feel?_ "

The pressure was building. I was alternating now, between rubbing my clit and fingering myself. I needed it all… but it wasn't enough. God, it just wasn't enough.

"Wanted. _Needed_. Make me feel like nothing else matters." My fingers moved harder, faster, rubbing and rubbing. "Right now, wish I had you between my legs. You know how to hit all the right spots. I get high on you. Always want more."

" _Fuck_ ," he grunted, pace of his hand picking up.

The sound made me shiver, my walls quiver and my fingers twitch. Just his voice had me wanting to come. The unholy things that man's mouth could do. I wanted to sit on it. Yes. Oh God, yes. I wanted to sit on it.

"Can't wait for you to get back. Gonna stay right here until you do. Naked, covered in sweat. Bet you'll smell it, what you're doing to me. It's probably staining the sheets."

" _Gonna bend you over, baby. Wanna see you arching into me, screaming into the pillow. Can't wat to fuck you for days._ "

The idea of him and me being locked in his room, naked, his constant touch burning my skin, branding it…

Everything inside me exploded.

It wasn't as intense as the orgasms Negan gave me, more like a buzz really. My cells vibrated at that happy frequency, giddy and full of bliss. My mind was awash with fog and confusion for a few second where all I knew was the feeling of satisfaction and Negan. My heart raced and skipped, thumping into my chest like an animal trying to escape its cage.

Negan heard the whole thing, coming to his own end almost instantly. There was a long moan-like grunt that followed, a few short breaths interrupting the sound.

" _Fuck_ ," he panted into the walkie. " _So glad you called me on the red, sweetheart._ "

A light chuckle bubbled from my chest. "Me too."

I could hear his smile as he spoke again, " _Think you can sleep now?_ "

"Hmm…" I contemplated it for a moment before shaking my head- even though he wasn't there. "I don't think so."

" _What? I wasn't enough?_ "

"This conversation isn't enough," I corrected. "Need the real deal to get a proper workout. That was more of a tease. If anything… I'm more awake and needy than before."

He groaned once last time, and I swear I nearly died at the sound. " _Was gonna make it back late, but I'll be home before lunch. Don't want you fucking leaving that room, okay? You stay there, like you said. Don't move one fucking muscle. Got it?_ "

Shivering at the intenseness of his voice, I shuddered as I answered, "Got it."

" _Good girl._ "

 **Bamby**


End file.
